The Hazards of Dropping In
by Kathy Rose
Summary: Another off the wall story where things get out of hand. Enterprise comes to the assistance of a ship in distress, but that's only the beginning.
1. Chapter 1

Title: The Hazards of Dropping In

Author: Kathy Rose

Disclaimer: Everything belongs to someone else, etc., etc., etc. I'm not making any money, I'm just having fun with the characters. Wish I'd thought of them first.

CHAPTER 1

Captain Jonathan Archer looked over at the communications console where Ensign Hoshi Sato sat with one hand to her earpiece. She had been in constant contact with the D'nini from the time Enterprise had picked up their ship's distress call more than two hours ago. She had even talked to them during the docking procedure which they'd just completed. For the most part, she had conversed quietly, not disturbing the bridge crew, but her last comment had been pitched loudly enough to get his attention.

"The D'nini are asking if they can come aboard before we send our repair crew over," she said.

"They're more than welcome," Jon replied, "but is there a particular reason they want to come over here?" Turning toward his science officer, he asked, "The life support on their ship is functional, isn't it, T'Pol?"

Commander T'Pol glanced at her console and inclined her head. "Perhaps they are merely trying to be friendly," she said, her flat tone giving the innocent words a cynical twist that only a Vulcan could achieve.

"Sir?" Hoshi said impatiently, getting his attention again. "There are some conditions to our helping them. In fact, that's why they're asking to come aboard."

Jon, who had been standing in the command well behind Ensign Travis Mayweather during the docking procedure, sat down in his chair. "Oh?"

"The reason they want to come over is because our repair team is comprised of men." She paused as a smile that she'd been holding back suddenly burst forth. "The D'nini on that ship are all women, and they can't be around men. They aren't even supposed to see men."

Jon blinked several times, then asked, "Why?"

"They're holy women, sir. Some sort of religious order," she explained. "From what I can tell from talking to them, they've dedicated a portion of their lives to contemplative meditation and prayer, and men are considered distractions. There's no way they can avoid our crewmen on their ship -- it's not that big."

Jon digested this information. "That explains why their communication with us is audio only. But there are even more men over here," he pointed out.

"Sir, they'll refuse our offer of help if their request cannot be granted," Hoshi said, all trace of her earlier amusement gone. "Their leader said, and I quote, 'We would rather die in the coldness of space than violate the demands of our devotion.'" There was silence for a few moments until Hoshi suggested, "We could clear the corridors before they come aboard."

Jon turned his gaze on T'Pol, who said, "Female personnel could escort them to a...male-free area...where they could remain for the duration of the repair work."

"I can't believe this," Jon muttered softly, shaking his head. To be sure, it was a funny situation. Compared to some scrapes Enterprise had been in, however, it was nothing. Just awkward, he decided at last.

The final determination came when T'Pol, checking her instruments, reported that there were no other ships within scanning range. The D'nini needed help now. The engine on their ship had been severely damaged by an ion storm. Either Enterprise helped the D'nini, or there was a good possibility they would die in this isolated region of space.

"Let's do it," he said. "Hoshi, issue a shipwide announcement telling the male crew members to remain either at their stations or in their quarters. T'Pol, you meet the group from the D'nini ship and take them to..."

At his questioning gaze, T'Pol said, "A guest cabin should suffice. There are five D'nini. They should be comfortable in such accommodations if their stay is not long. Mr. Tucker's initial assessment of their engine problem indicates a repair time of no more than six hours."

"Captain," Hoshi put in. "I'd like to volunteer to help with the D'nini."

Hoshi didn't fool Jon. He knew she was eager to have a chance to learn yet another new language. What would that make -- forty-nine languages she could speak? Fifty? He told Hoshi that she would be free to go with T'Pol as soon as she made the general announcement informing the male crew members of the situation.

The announcement made, T'Pol and Hoshi turned their stations over to relief crew members. The two women were almost to the turbolift when a thought occurred to Jon.

"T'Pol?" he asked. "These D'nini... They aren't like Orion women, are they?"

The captain's question drew the attention of everyone on the bridge, and all eyes were on T'Pol as she turned back to answer.

"Vulcan has had limited contact with the D'nini," she said. "We do know that D'nini society is similar to those of many humanoid species, with the opposite genders having equal rights and privileges. To my knowledge, their females do not have pheromones that influence males, as do the Orions." She paused, tilting her head to one side. "I believe this particular group is much like the cloistered religious orders on Earth, which eschew the material distractions of life and remain apart from the larger society."

Jon nodded his head in understanding, and T'Pol and Hoshi went on their way. He sighed and leaned back in his command chair. It was just his luck that Enterprise had contacted a new species and he wouldn't be able to meet them in person -- simply because he was a man.

* * *

Lieutenant Malcolm Reed was on his side in a crawlway above E deck's main forward corridor. Some of the phase cannon firing relays located there had gone on the fritz. The announcement coming from a comm panel on the other side of a large ventilation grate near his feet was muffled, but he could still make it out.

"Remain at my post?" he muttered disgustedly under his breath as he struggled to remove one of the relay covers. "It's not bloody likely I'll leave until these are fixed -- and that could be hours, the rate I'm going."

He had been on the bridge when the distress call had come in. Learning from T'Pol that the D'nini were not hostile -- they had never been in an armed conflict in recorded history, according to the Vulcan database -- he had opted to leave the bridge to work on the relays. The D'nini might not be a threat, but there were any number of other species which were. The sooner he got the relays fixed, the better. And now this nonsense about all men staying out of sight of the D'nini! It's just as well he had gotten started on it, else he might be stuck on the bridge for who knew how long and the relays would still need to be fixed.

He twisted the cover of the relay first to one side, then the other, in an effort to dislodge it. He finally managed to pop it out of place, but in doing so, his right hand slammed back into a piece of support bracing, and his index finger sustained a nasty cut. Grumbling, he reached into one of his pockets for a handkerchief to tie around the offending digit. It wasn't bleeding overly much, but the last thing he wanted was to get blood in the relay's connection and mess it up.

As he wrapped his finger with the makeshift bandage, he was glad the cut wasn't worse. Not that he wanted to go to sickbay -- he usually avoided the medical area as a matter of principle. But the comm announcement had made it clear that no men were to be in the corridors for the next thirty minutes. A trip to sickbay was out of the question in any case.

He made the necessary repairs to the relay. Hampered as he was by his injured finger, it took a little longer than it should have. He put the cover back in place and gathered up his tools, and scooted toward the next relay. The way things were going, he was going to be cooped up in crawlways the rest of his shift, D'nini or no D'nini.

* * *

The docking hatch at the airlock slid open, but to T'Pol's and Hoshi's surprise, no one was on the other side. They exchanged a glance -- Hoshi's puzzled, T'Pol's curious -- and looked back at the open doorway. T'Pol called loudly, "You may come out. There are no men here."

A soft rustling preceded the appearance of the D'nini women. Hoshi blinked as they stepped into view. Each one wore a shimmering gown that on Earth would harken back to medieval times. The high-waisted dresses served only to emphasize the wearers' slenderness as the skirts swirled about them with their movements. The outfits also called attention to their rather well-endowed chests, Hoshi thought cattily as she noted the abundance of flesh protruding above the snug, low-cut bodices. Each dress, while similar in cut, was a different color. It was like looking at a living rainbow.

The D'nini themselves were human-looking. Only slightly taller than Hoshi, they each had gracefully proportioned limbs, along with eyes and ears and everything else in the proper locations. Their hair, ranging in shades from silvery blonde to blue-black, was long and wavy. Not medieval times, Hoshi corrected herself. More like the hippie era of the 1960s, although not many hippies had eyes the same shade as their hair like these women did. And while they didn't appear to be young, neither did they give the impression of being old.

"I am Commander T'Pol," the Vulcan said. "This is Ensign Sato. We will escort you to a suitable waiting place away from men."

The silver-haired D'nini stepped forward and inclined her head. "We appreciate your efforts on our behalf, and will remember you in our devotions."

When no other words were forthcoming, T'Pol indicated the group should follow her, and they started off down the corridor.

* * *

The next relay was proving more troublesome than the previous one. Malcolm had to resort to prying the cover off with a screwdriver. As he began to pick at the inner workings of the relay, he was acutely aware of the almost absolute silence around him. Normally, there would be someone walking along the corridor below him at least every few minutes or so. Not only did the corridor have entrances to the mess hall and sickbay, but it allowed access to the lower level of Engineering as well.

It was strange not hearing the normal sounds associated with people on board. Just because the men were supposed to remain out of sight didn't mean the women couldn't be out and about. But the female personnel, all twenty-five or so of them including the female MACOs, were apparently keeping under wraps, too.

He was removing some damaged wiring when his ears detected the sound of many footsteps in the corridor below. It must be the D'nini group, he surmised. He wouldn't be able to see much through the grate even if he was inclined to peek. They wouldn't be aware he was up here, either. Most people didn't look at what was above their heads as they walked, not that they would be able to see much through the grate if they did.

He stopped working so that he wouldn't cause any noise that might attract attention. As he waited for the group to pass by, he rolled onto his back to stretch out the kinks in his muscles from being cooped up in the cramped crawlway.

* * *

Much as Hoshi wished to converse with the D'nini, she respected their disinclination to speak in public. Perhaps when they were squared away in their temporary quarters they would be more willing to talk.

T'Pol was leading the way, with the D'nini grouped together after her. Hoshi brought up the rear. She had ample opportunity to see how the light reflected off metallic threads in their gowns and sent prismatic sparkles dancing on the bulkheads. It was a good thing the men were staying out of sight, she thought. The D'nini presented a sight that was sure to attract the attention of any red-blooded male.

They were turning a corner leading to the guest cabin when a creaking sound from overhead caught Hoshi's attention. It was so out of place that she looked up, trying to locate where it was coming from.

* * *

As soon as his buttocks came in contact with the ventilation grate, Malcolm realized it had been a mistake to roll onto his back. He felt the grate give, but before he could reverse direction, the grate beneath him fell away, landing with a horrendous clang in the corridor below.

Even worse, he was slipping arse first through the opening, his body folding up like a pocket knife as he began to slide through. His hands flailed uselessly as he sought something to stop his descent. The handkerchief he'd wrapped around his cut snagged on a rough edge of metal trim and began to unravel from around his finger. In desperation, he managed to keep hold of the handkerchief, and for a few seconds, it held.

But his weight was too much for the fabric. It tore, and he slipped down through the opening.

* * *

A large grate in the overhead bulkhead crashed to the deck not more than two meters in front of T'Pol. The entire group came to a halt, their eyes directed toward the opening in the ceiling. A uniformed posterior hung suspended there for a few moments, then it and the body to which it was attached plummeted unceremoniously to the deck. Shrieks came from the D'nini as Malcolm landed with a thud on his back in front of them.

"A man!" cried the silver-haired D'nini. Turning an accusing glare on T'Pol, she said, "We were not to see men. How has this happened?"

"That is what I would like to know," said T'Pol calmly. "However, I suggest we continue to your cabin, thereby minimizing the length of contact."

Murmured agreement came from the D'nini.

T'Pol paused before leading the group away. "Lieutenant, are you all right?" she asked the dazed tactical officer.

Malcolm opened his mouth to speak, apparently thought better of it, and closed his mouth and nodded. He got to his feet, grimacing at the sharp stab of pain in his cut finger as he pushed himself up from the deck. The movement had caused the finger to start bleeding again. He clasped it in his other hand, trying to staunch the bleeding, as he stepped aside to let the group pass.

A muted gasp came from the D'nini. "Blood," murmured the silver-haired one.

"That's okay," Hoshi said hastily. "We have a doctor on board. Lieutenant Reed will be all right."

"You don't understand," cried another of the D'nini, this one in a vibrant green dress. "Blood! We have seen his blood."

The last two words were said almost reverently as she pointed at Malcolm's hands. A trickle of blood could be seen seeping out from under his protective grasp.

"Lieutenant," T'Pol said. "It would be best if you take yourself to sickbay."

"We must go with him!" the silver-haired D'nini said. "We have seen his blood."

"I don't understand," T'Pol said. "You requested that the men on this ship avoid contact with you. Now you wish to be with Lieutenant Reed?"

"Yes," sighed a D'nini in a saffron yellow dress. "It has been predestined by the spilling of his blood. We must go to him."

The other D'nini nodded in agreement and started to move toward Malcolm who, blinking at the colorful feminine advance, gulped and took a step backward.

"Stop!" T'Pol ordered.

Hoshi was relieved when the women obeyed. She had no idea what the D'nini had in mind for Malcolm. Were they going to physically attack him for violating their self-imposed, gender-limited existence? And why did they keep carrying on about Malcolm's blood? She had to admit there was absolutely no consistency between the D'ninis' request to be away from men and the way they were acting toward Malcolm.

T'Pol let out a long breath. It was apparent that, despite her Vulcan control, she was trying to retain her composure. "I suggest that Lieutenant Reed proceed to sickbay--" Protests came from the five alien women, and T'Pol had to raise her voice to be heard. "All of us will accompany him there."

This seemed to satisfy the D'nini, for they preened prettily and relaxed. They reminded Hoshi of a flock of tropical birds, chirping to each other and smoothing non-existent wrinkles in their brilliantly hued dresses.

The only one who hadn't relaxed was Malcolm. Still holding his injured hand, he'd been edging in the direction of sickbay. Hoshi wondered if he had been considering making a break for it. Running away was probably a more appealing option to him than being escorted by this fluttering, twittering feminine gaggle, Hoshi realized.

Well, except for herself and T'Pol. Hoshi rarely fluttered, and she never twittered. She couldn't imagine T'Pol doing either.

"Please!" T'Pol said loudly as the D'nini continued to talk excitedly amongst themselves. "If we could have some order?"

"Of course," said the silver-haired D'nini, whom Hoshi had decided was their leader if only because she was the one who spoke the most often. "Please forgive us."

T'Pol inclined her head and turned to Malcolm. She gestured for him to get moving, and he did so hastily, but not before he shot one last wary glance at the D'nini. T'Pol fell into step behind him, effectively keeping the D'nini from crowding him. Hoshi once again was relegated to bringing up the rear.


	2. Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2

Sickbay was only a short distance down the corridor. Malcolm was leading the way, followed by T'Pol and the D'nini. Hoshi, at the rear of the group, experienced a sudden apprehension. She pushed past the D'nini as politely as she could and caught up with T'Pol.

"Phlox is male," Hoshi said in a whisper.

T'Pol gave her a sidelong glance. They both were well aware their visitors had requested they see no men. The one man they had seen had caused the D'nini to react in a most unpredictable way.

"Go ahead and tell the doctor to remain out of sight," T'Pol said. "I will have our guests wait outside until sickbay is clear."

"Pardon me," said the silver-haired D'nini from behind them.

Hoshi told herself she really ought to find out their names instead of mentally referring to them by the color of their hair or dresses. For the time being, however, she decided she'd call this one "Silver."

"There is no longer any need for us to be segregated from the men on your ship," Silver told them.

"Excuse me?" Hoshi asked in confusion.

"Do you need to leave us?" asked Silver, a frown marring her perfect features.

Hoshi shook her head. Before she could say anything, T'Pol addressed Silver. "Please elaborate. Why do you no longer wish to be sequestered from the men on Enterprise?"

A beatific smile transformed Silver's face, mirrored by the happy expressions of her companions. She cast a glance at Malcolm, who was waiting next to the sickbay doors. "We have seen his blood," Silver said as if that explained everything.

"You've told us that several times," Hoshi said in exasperation.

"We do not, however," T'Pol said, "understand the significance of this factor."

Silver's eyes widened in comprehension. "Of course! You are not familiar with our customs." Gesturing toward Malcolm, she said, "First let us see to his injury, then all will be explained."

T'Pol indicated Malcolm should enter sickbay. He was followed closely by the D'nini, who clustered around him giving him admiring glances. They hadn't touched him, but Hoshi was willing to bet it was only a matter of time before they were hanging all over him. If it weren't for the fact that she knew Malcolm was incredibly uncomfortable, it would have been funny.

"Uh-oh," Hoshi murmured to T'Pol. "I have a bad feeling about where this is going."

"I believe I have an idea as well, Ensign," T'Pol said quietly as the two women trailed the group into sickbay. "However, we should not leap to conclusions without all the facts. Let us hear what the D'nini have to say."

Doctor Phlox, coming around the partition behind which his supplies were stored, took one look at the assembly of women hovering around Malcolm standing in the middle of sickbay and said, "Oh, my! What do we have here?"

"Can you help him?" asked Silver anxiously, gesturing toward Malcolm who, his expression that of a cornered animal, stood in the midst of the D'nini women.

"Depending on what is wrong with him, I'm sure I can," the doctor answered cheerfully. "But you must give me some room to work, hmmm?"

The D'nini backed a few steps away from Malcolm. Phlox approached Malcolm, who held up his bleeding finger.

"It doesn't look serious. The autosuture should take care of that in no time," Phlox said, reaching for an instrument on a nearby tray. He nodded toward the closest biobed. "If you'll just have a seat?"

T'Pol took the opportunity to draw Silver away from the watching group. "Now would be a good time to explain what is going on," the Vulcan said sternly.

Reluctantly tearing her gaze away from Malcolm, Silver said, "In my culture, a man and a woman who wish to marry must go through certain rituals. The purpose of the rituals, some of which are as old as our species, is to ensure that the pair will remain together for life. One of the most important rituals -- the final one that the man must perform -- is what has happened here. This man has shown us his blood, symbolizing his willingness to keep his life mate safe, even to the point of death."

Hoshi, who had been listening in, said, "But it was an accident. Lieutenant Reed didn't mean to cut himself, and he certainly didn't mean to fall through the ventilation grate."

Silver was already back to gazing adoringly at Malcolm. "It does not matter. It has happened," she said, moving away to rejoin her companions.

Hoshi caught a glimpse of Malcolm's face. He seemed to be doing his best to ignore that he was the center of the D'ninis' attention.

"Their reaction to this incident seems extreme," T'Pol commented.

Hoshi had to agree, especially after how adamant the D'nini had been about not seeing men. She thought about what Silver had told them, in particular that some of their rituals were as old as their species. Perhaps seeing a man's blood triggered some sort of instinctual response among the women of the D'nini. She said as much to T'Pol.

The Vulcan's eyes narrowed as she thought. "Perhaps," she said, "their reaction has been heightened by their lack of contact with men. I will present this theory to Doctor Phlox while you...run interference...for Lieutenant Reed. He appears to be at a loss as to what to do."

Sure enough, Malcolm had scooted back on the biobed, leaning away from the D'nini as they violated his personal space. Hoshi heard him ask that they stop touching him.

"Maybe I can get some more information out of Silver while I'm at it," Hoshi said. T'Pol lifted an eyebrow, and Hoshi quickly added, "The D'nini who told us about the blood ritual."

* * *

Malcolm received permission from T'Pol to go to his quarters. He gratefully left sickbay -- alone -- while the D'nini were kept behind on some pretext. He'd have to thank Hoshi later for that. She'd suggested that the D'nini needed to have scans run since they'd never before had contact with humans. Phlox had picked up on the ruse, and was happily demonstrating how the medical scanners worked when Malcolm ducked out of sickbay.

He could have sworn he felt five pairs of eyes on his back before the sickbay doors swooshed shut behind him. He hurried to his cabin and stepped inside where, as soon as the door shut, he shuddered.

The D'nini were... He didn't know what they were. But he could sense some sort of overwhelming intent from them. The most alarming aspect was that their intent was directed at him.

He shuddered again. Now that he'd gotten away from them, he couldn't help but wonder what was going to happen next. The little bit he'd overheard in sickbay about the D'nini seeing his blood had been more than disquieting. They didn't look the least bit like vampires, but looks could be deceiving.

Hopefully, he could remain away from them for the duration of their stay. Their ship should be fixed within a matter of hours.

He actually was turning toward the door with the intention of going to speed Trip along with the repairs when he caught himself. What was he doing? That pack of man-hungry females might leave sickbay at any time. He wasn't going to take any chances on running into them. He also supposed the captain's order for the male crew members to remain out of sight still applied to him as well.

With a sigh, Malcolm turned away from the door and flopped down on his bunk. At least Phlox had fixed his finger, he thought as looked at the neatly closed wound. He'd just wait until the all clear was sounded after the D'nini left and it was safe to come out of hiding.

* * *

Once Phlox finished the medical exams, the D'ninis' interest in Malcolm resurfaced. They refused to leave sickbay until T'Pol agreed they would see the tactical officer after they were settled in their guest quarters. While Hoshi was occupied with taking them to the cabin, T'Pol consulted with Phlox about his findings, then went in search of the captain.

She found him in his ready room. She didn't make it halfway through her report before he interrupted her.

"They have a biological imperative to mate?" he asked incredulously.

T'Pol had been expecting the outburst. Humans were so fixated on sexual matters. Being Vulcan, however, she could commiserate with the D'nini. She had her own race's biological imperative to worry about every seven years. Not that she was going to bring that subject up.

Trying to quell the captain's rising anxiety, she said, "It is a biological imperative only so far as Lieutenant Reed is concerned. The other male crew members may now be in the D'ninis' presence with no untoward effects."

"Untoward effects?" Jon repeated and sat down in the chair at his desk.

T'Pol took the captain's comment to be rhetorical and requiring no response on her part. She resumed giving her report. Doctor Phlox's scans had shown that indeed the D'nini were acting under an impulse triggered by seeing a man's blood. In talking to Silver, T'Pol had found that only unmated female D'nini had this response. That it had affected five women at once was unusual, but not unheard of, and there were polygamous marriages on their homeworld because of it.

"But they can't seriously believe that Malcolm is in a position to marry them!" Jon said. "He's not even a D'nini! He's a human...and a Starfleet officer!"

"Their emotions are clouding their judgment," T'Pol said, recalling her own even more blatant sexual overtures toward the very same Starfleet officer after a microbe she'd picked up on an away mission had triggered her mating cycle. She hurried on with her report. "In addition, it is Phlox's conclusion that, by remaining isolated from men, the D'ninis' response was heightened more than usual when they saw the lieutenant's blood."

Jon leaned back in his chair. "There's got to be some way to short-circuit their response. Isn't there something Phlox can give them?"

T'Pol raised her eyebrows. "Doctor Phlox has no cure. Even if he did, it could only be administered with the D'ninis' permission, which I seriously doubt would be given."

"Of course it couldn't be that simple," Jon muttered, rubbing his eyes. "Well, they'll be gone in a few hours. That should be the end of it."

* * *

Hoshi managed to convince the D'nini to stay in the cabin while she stepped out into the corridor to talk to T'Pol.

"They're getting more and more wound up," she told the first officer. "If they don't see Lieutenant Reed soon, I don't think I can keep them in the cabin. They're talking about going to look for him."

T'Pol told Hoshi about the doctor's findings.

"Can't something be done to change the D'ninis' reaction?" Hoshi asked.

"That is unknown at this time. We need more information about their culture as well as their physiology before we can formulate some resolution to this situation."

Hoshi frowned. "I suppose we could just ask them to leave, but I don't think they'll go for it. By the way, does Lieutenant Reed know about all this?" she asked with a vague wave of her hand toward the cabin door.

"I haven't had the opportunity to tell him. I thought it best to come here first and gather more information." T'Pol thought for a moment. "I will talk to the D'nini while you inform Lieutenant Reed of the situation. If I cannot make them remain in the cabin, perhaps we can come up with a way to distract them. A tour comes to mind, since they no longer desire to remain sequestered."

"Crewman Cutler would be a good person to take them on a tour," Hoshi said. "In the meantime, I'll try to contact their homeworld and see what I can find out."

* * *

Malcolm was sitting on his bunk when Hoshi entered his quarters. She wasn't surprised when he jumped to his feet at her news.

"They want to marry me? All of them?" he cried, an expression of mixed disbelief and horror etched on his face. "Just because they saw my blood!"

"Calm down, Malcolm! T'Pol's trying to get more information from them. I just stopped by here to let you know what was going on before I head to the bridge to contact their homeworld."

"To do what? Send out wedding invitations?"

Hoshi scowled at Malcolm and he quickly became apologetic. "Sorry, Hoshi. But it's rather hard to believe. One minute I'm minding my own business, working on some relays, and the next I fall through a ventilation grate -- arse first, no less! -- and have five alien women chasing after me -- because they want to marry me!"

Hoshi cleared her throat. "I'm not so sure they want to marry you." She felt terrible when he glanced hopefully at her, and she hurried on. "They just want to mate with you. It's some sort of biological response to the sight of your blood."

Malcolm groaned, closed his eyes, and sank down onto his bunk.

Hoshi took pity on him. "Look, you stay here. That way the D'nini won't run into you while they're taking a tour of the ship. I'll get up to the bridge and see what I can find out from their homeworld." She opened the door but paused on the threshold. "As soon as I know anything, I'll let you know."

Eyes still closed, Malcolm nodded miserably.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Thanks, everyone, for the lovely comments. I got an entire chapter written yesterday because of it.

CHAPTER 3

Liz Cutler was beginning to wonder what she'd gotten herself into. She'd told T'Pol she'd be happy to lead the visitors on a tour while their ship was being repaired. It would be a nice break from her usual routine. Then she'd seen how gorgeous the five D'nini were. Squashing a surge of jealousy, she'd put on a bright smile and started the tour, wishing she'd at least stopped by her cabin to put on a fresh uniform. Not that it would have helped. Compared to the bright bevy of women, she felt downright dowdy.

Too bad Phlox had already shown them all the fancy gadgets in sickbay, not to mention his menagerie. But they didn't show any interest in the galley or the mess hall, or the science lab, either. They didn't even particularly seem to care for hydroponics with its multitude of plants and flowers.

She decided it would be a waste of time to show them Engineering. Ditto the armory, but for another reason. T'Pol had drawn her aside before the tour and told her that under no circumstances were the D'nini to get near Lieutenant Reed. Liz couldn't keep from grinning when T'Pol had explained why. It was a wise precaution, Liz realized, when she overheard a few whispers between some of the D'nini about the one thing on board that did have their interest.

But what was she going to do to keep them occupied? She was afraid if she took them back to their guest cabin, they'd demand to see Lieutenant Reed, and she didn't know if she could keep them corralled. She'd already twice caught the neon blue-garbed D'nini trying to slip away from the group.

Liz led them down another corridor, killing time until she came up with an idea.

The silver-haired D'nini had told her they weren't hungry when they'd visited the mess hall earlier, so that was out. Besides, there had been several male crew members in there who had brightened visibly at the sight of the D'nini. She had motioned Travis to back off when he got up from a table to approach the group. Even though T'Pol said it was okay for the D'nini to be around men, Liz wasn't going to take any chances.

Maybe they'd find some of the cultural aspects of Earth entertaining. She suggested going to her cabin to hear a selection of Earth music, and was finally rewarded with some enthusiasm on the part of the D'nini.

"We use music in our meditations," said the one in a yellow dress. The others nodded in agreement.

If her lecture on Earth music failed to keep them amused, maybe T'Pol could compare notes on meditation with them. That ought to keep them occupied for quite some time, Liz thought in grim amusement.

"My cabin's just down this corridor and around the corner," Liz told them.

* * *

The half-hour time limit for the men to remain out of sight was long past when Trip took a break from the repair work on the D'nini ship. He thought he'd round up Malcolm, and the two of them could go get something to eat. He checked Malcolm's favorite haunt -- the armory -- but he wasn't there, or anywhere else he checked, for that matter. It wasn't until Trip contacted the bridge and talked to Hoshi that he found out where Malcolm was.

Hoshi sounded a little strange. She told him that Malcolm was in his quarters and then cut the connection like she was busy, but not before he could have sworn he'd heard her snigger.

He went to Malcolm's cabin and rang the chime. When he didn't get an answer, he called out, "Malcolm? You in there?"

Muffled by the closed door, his friend's voice came to him faintly. "Trip?"

"You okay?" he called back.

The door slid open and Trip was greeted by the sight of a rumpled tactical officer who glanced uneasily past him into the corridor.

"Get in here!" Malcolm said, grabbing Trip by the arm and pulling him into the cabin. "You are not going to believe what's happened."

Malcolm quickly shut the door. Something was definitely wrong, but as Trip began to pry what that something was out of his friend -- Malcolm was never one to talk openly about things that were bothering or embarrassing him -- his concern gave way to a less sympathetic emotion.

"All five of 'em?" Trip asked, not sure whether to be amused or maybe jealous. "Geez, Malcolm! At least I've only gotten involved with one alien woman at a time."

Malcolm gave him a withering glare. "This isn't funny!"

"No, of course not," he said. He held up his hands placatingly, but he couldn't keep from snickering. "For one thing, your cabin's not big enough for all of 'em and you."

"Trip!"

"Sorry."

"What are you doing here anyway?" Malcolm asked in that suddenly intense way he had that could make a person feel like squirming. "Shouldn't you be working on their ship?"

"Take it easy, Malcolm," Trip said soothingly. "I got my best team workin' on it. That ship's so small we're fallin' all over each other. Me being gone isn't gonna cause any delay in fixin' their ship."

"As if this isn't bad enough," Malcolm said, "I haven't finished fixing the firing relays. I had about half of them done when I fell through the grate."

Trip watched as Malcolm began to pace back and forth in the small cabin. The poor guy really was upset. In an effort to empathize, Trip tried to imagine himself in a similar situation, but he couldn't. Five gorgeous women at one time -- it was too unbelievable! Worried that Malcolm was going to work himself into being sick, the engineer said, "You could probably use something to eat." He resisted adding that Malcolm would need to keep up his strength to deal with five women at once. That would be too cruel.

"I'm a bit hungry," Malcolm admitted, "but I'm not going anywhere until those women are off the ship, or until T'Pol and Hoshi find some useful information that might change the predicament I'm in."

"When was the last time you ate?" Trip persisted.

Malcolm distractedly ran a hand through his hair as he paced. "I don't know. I skipped lunch to work on the relays. I had tea and toast for breakfast this morning. Or was that yesterday?"

"I have it on good authority that Chef's making shepherd's pie tonight," Trip said in a cajoling tone.

Malcolm stopped his pacing and looked at Trip. "You're not making that up just to tempt me out of my cabin, are you?"

"Would I do that?" Trip asked, an innocent expression on his face.

Malcolm didn't buy it. He turned and began to pace again. "The way my luck's going today, I'd probably run into those women in the mess hall."

"I also know," Trip said, "that they've already been in the mess hall. Travis told me when I was lookin' for you. So they probably won't go back there again."

A speculative gleam appeared in Malcolm's eyes. "If we can make it to the turbolift without being seen, it might just work."

* * *

Liz was congratulating herself on finally finding something to hold the D'ninis' interest as they approached her cabin. Music could be calming. That's why mothers sang to cranky babies. She would just make sure that she didn't play any love ballads, especially ones about unrequited love.

The D'nini women were nice enough, she supposed, but they didn't seem to understand the awkward situation they'd caused. Then again, they weren't familiar with human customs. It was simply a case of culture clash.

She stopped in front of her cabin door and was about to punch in her code when there came the sound of another cabin door opening farther down the corridor. She glanced that way, started to turn back to her group, and did a double take. Commander Tucker was stepping out into the corridor, and right behind him was Lieutenant Reed.

She hastily opened her cabin door and tried to get the D'nini to enter, but it was too late. They'd seen their quarry, and off they went in pursuit. They weren't quite running, but it was a chase nonetheless. Liz and Commander Tucker were left in the dust as the pack of D'nini, their colorful skirts swirling around them, walked quickly down the corridor in the direction Lieutenant Reed had taken.

* * *

Hoshi had just finished talking to representatives of the D'nini homeworld when T'Pol stepped on to the bridge from the turbolift.

"The captain is still in his ready room?" T'Pol asked with a glance in that direction as she approached the communications console.

Hoshi nodded. "I think he thinks it isn't safe to come out."

T'Pol let the comment pass. "Have you been able to obtain any information from the D'nini homeworld?"

Hoshi nodded again. "Yes. I talked to the leader of the religious sect to which our guests belong. There may be a way to solve this problem without any hard feelings, but it's going to take several days before we can attempt it."

"I, too, was able to glean some useful information from the D'nini," T'Pol said.

The two compared notes, then went to the ready room to talk to the captain.

"This might work," the captain said about five minutes later after T'Pol and Hoshi had reported their findings. "That's provided we can get Mr. Reed to go along with it. And also provided that we don't run into anything on the way that delays us."

"Time is of the essence," T'Pol agreed, "not only to resolve the issue, but to salvage what is left of Mr. Reed's dignity."

An image of Malcolm, armed to the teeth and barricaded in his quarters, rose in Hoshi's mind, and she tried not to laugh. The captain appeared to find T'Pol's statement amusing as well, and he opened his mouth to speak, only to be interrupted by the intercom.

_"Cutler to Commander T'Pol!"_

The urgency in Cutler's voice was an indication that something was wrong, and Hoshi watched anxiously as T'Pol stepped over to the comm panel on the captain's desk.

"T'Pol here."

_"The D'nini have found Lieutenant Reed!"_

"Please elaborate," T'Pol said.

_"I was taking them to my cabin...to listen to music...and they saw the lieutenant come out of his quarters."_

"Where are they now?" T'Pol asked.

_"I don't know. They took off after him. Commander Tucker is trying to keep up with them, but I thought I'd better let you know first."_

Hoshi heard the captain groan and mutter something about a three rings and a circus.

* * *

Malcolm tried to tell himself that this was like an exercise he sometimes conducted for his armory staff. He was the fox to his staff's hounds in a simulated tactical drill. Their objective was to hunt him down; his was to elude them. But his men seldom caught him. And if they did, the scenario ended there, and then they would have a briefing on how the exercise went.

Somehow, though, he didn't think there would be any discussion involved if the D'nini women caught him. They'd simply surround him, and he'd be smothered to death in a brilliant implosion of silky fabrics.

As he trotted around yet another curve in the corridor, he wondered if he could double back and slip into his cabin without being seen. At least the D'nini seemed to stay in a group. If they split up, he'd have a harder time evading them and they might eventually be able to corner him. He shuddered at the thought.

He wasn't afraid of women. Quite the opposite, actually. He usually enjoyed being around the fairer sex. But five at once was beyond his capability, not to mention his imagination, to handle gracefully. Besides, there was something about the look they got in their eyes whenever they mentioned seeing his blood that made him more apprehensive than facing a squadron of Klingons. It wasn't a feeling he liked. Maybe it was some primal survival instinct kicking in, making him react this way. Five women at once -- it could be the death of him.

Oddly enough, he wasn't scared so much about what the D'nini might do to him -- provided it didn't result in his death, of course -- as that he'd never live it down. Trip's reaction had been bad enough. He couldn't begin to imagine what it would be like if everyone on board knew.

With a start, he realized it had been a bad move to let his mind wander. He'd moved so quickly that he'd gone a full circuit on the deck and had come up behind the slower-moving D'nini.

Trip was at the head of their pack, walking backward as he tried to slow them down. Trip's gaze shifted to Malcolm as he came into view. Too late Malcolm realized the startled expression on the engineer's face was all the D'nini needed to alert them, and they turned as one and saw him.

What little pride Malcolm had asserted itself. Instead of reversing course, he held his ground as they approached, arms fluttering in excitement and soft voices imploring him not to leave. He cast a desperate glance at Trip, who pushed his way through the group.

Positioning himself between Malcolm and the D'nini, Trip turned to face the onslaught. "Now hold on!" he said. "Give the man some room! What are ya tryin' to do? Trample him?"

Malcolm gulped and found his voice. "Yes. Please. You need to maintain a...a...proper distance."

With disappointed murmurs, the women reluctantly complied. Malcolm took his first deep breath since the chase had begun. He looked at Trip but what he saw was not heartening. Trip appeared as surprised as he did that the D'nini had obeyed.

"They'll listen to you," Malcolm said from between clenched teeth. "Tell them they have to leave me alone."

Trip shrugged and said, "I'll give it a shot." He cleared his throat in an authoritative manner. "Ladies, you have to leave Lieutenant Reed here alone."

The D'nini weren't happy with his pronouncement. Silver took a step closer, forcing Trip back a step, and said, "We have seen his blood!"

Trip swallowed. "Yeah. I heard about that. But you've got to give the man some space! He has duties to perform and you're interferin' with those duties."

Malcolm nodded vigorously. That much was true.

"But we want to be with him," Neon Blue spoke up from behind Silver.

"Yes," echoed Saffron Yellow. "It is our destiny as shown by his blood."

As their voices rose, Trip and Malcolm began slowly backing away. The D'nini followed.

"Ladies!" Trip said, holding up his hands and trying to calm them. "We're gonna have to set down some rules."

"An excellent idea, Commander," came T'Pol's voice from down the corridor behind the D'nini.

The Vulcan made her way through the D'nini women and turned to face them, her back to the two men. Malcolm felt oddly reassured by her presence. T'Pol could probably take out the whole lot of them by herself. Not that he couldn't, but it just wouldn't be right for him to harm five women who only wanted to-- He abruptly stopped himself from following that train of thought to its conclusion.

T'Pol calmly eyed the five D'nini. "We need to formulate a set of guidelines that will allow us to function efficiently, without imposing undue stress on any of the parties involved," she said.

Trip, avoiding Malcolm's gaze and sounding suspiciously like he wanted to laugh, coughed instead. "What do you suggest, T'Pol?" he asked.

T'Pol cast a glance over her shoulder at Trip. "We have three days before the D'nini abbess arrives." She turned back to the D'nini as they broke out in excited exclamations.

"The abbess is coming!" Silver cried joyfully. "Our union will be formally blessed!"

"What!" cried Malcolm.

T'Pol looked over her other shoulder at the agitated tactical officer. "There is to be what humans would call a wedding," she said.

It was a good thing Malcolm's disbelieving gaze was locked on T'Pol's face, or else he would have missed her exaggerated wink.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: I was wondering if readers would understand why T'Pol winked at the end of the last chapter. You're right, volley -- it is out of character for her. In fact, that's why I had her do it. But it probably needed a bit more explanation, so I inserted a few sentences in this chapter to do that.

CHAPTER 4

Word of the impending nuptials spread quickly. To Hoshi, it seemed like everyone on the entire ship was talking about it by the next morning. The buzz died away to an expectant silence, however, when Malcolm and his lovely entourage appeared in the mess hall for breakfast.

Hoshi had to stifle a smile as he entered. He stepped through the doorway, doing his best to ignore that he was being trailed by the five colorfully dressed D'nini. They looked like baby ducklings following their mother, especially since they glided more than walked. Enhancing the impression was the way their sleeves flowed with their movements, reminding Hoshi of bird wings.

After all of them had selected food in the serving line, Hoshi saw Malcolm turn toward the women and say something. He must have told them to sit at a different table from him, because their eager faces fell and they moved off by themselves.

There was no argument from the D'nini, Hoshi was happy to see. One of the ground rules T'Pol had laid down was that they could be in Malcolm's presence but had to maintain a distance if he so requested. No doubt it was uncomfortable for him, but at least it seemed to satisfy the D'ninis' craving to see him.

Malcolm's gaze came to rest on Hoshi as he looked around the mess hall. She jerked her head in a "come here" motion. He didn't move toward her, however, until she saw him gauge the distance between her table and the D'nini. Apparently reassured that he would be far enough away from them for comfort, he headed in her direction.

Hoshi didn't speak as he sat down and put his napkin on his lap. She let him start eating before she said, "I'm surprised to see you here."

He grunted. "Believe me, being out in public with that horde is almost as bad as being alone with them," he said, then blushed as Hoshi grinned impishly at him. "It's a good thing my cabin is off-limits to them," he added hastily, "or I'd have to jump out an airlock to put myself out of my misery. In fact, that's what I thought I was going to have to do yesterday when they caught up to me. If it hadn't been for T'Pol winking--"

"T'Pol winked?"

"Yes, she winked," he said. "I've never seen her do that before. Then I realized she was trying to tell me something."

"It's not that bad, Malcolm," Hoshi said, seeing him warily look toward the D'nini. "You can handle three days of this."

"As long as they stay at a respectful distance, it shouldn't be a problem." He paused to take a bite of his breakfast, then continued speaking around a mouthful of pancake. "It's the other people who don't have that restriction that are driving me bonkers."

Hoshi was about to ask what he meant when Travis joined them. The helmsman sat down but turned in his chair to look at the D'nini. They were all looking back. As Travis faced Malcolm again, he said with a straight face, "It's probably a good thing you're keeping up your strength."

Malcolm stopped eating to stare coldly at the other man, and Hoshi hurried to intervene.

"Shame on you, Travis!" she said. "Can't you see how hard this is for Malcolm? I'd think you'd have a little sympathy."

Travis thought for a moment. "Actually, I'm jealous, and so are the other men on board. That's why we're rubbing it in."

"I didn't know amateur psychology was your hobby," Malcolm muttered sarcastically.

Hoshi pushed back from the table and got to her feet. "I've got to get to the bridge and take care of the final arrangements for when the abbess gets here in a few days." She dropped a hand on Malcolm's shoulder. "Don't worry. We'll get this all straightened out."

She noticed the envious expressions of the D'nini congregation as she patted Malcolm reassuringly on the shoulder before taking her leave. She took their reaction as an encouraging sign. The plan she and T'Pol had come up with just might work.

* * *

Malcolm couldn't concentrate. Flashes of vivid, shimmering color kept popping up in his peripheral vision every time he'd become immersed in some task or other. It reminded him of the way a hostile ship with cloaking technology would suddenly appear, then disappear from the scanners. Just because it was the D'nini flitting in and out of his personal radar didn't mean he was any less tense than he would be in a potential combat situation.

He sighed and put down the tool he was using so he could rub his temples. A chorus of concerned murmurs came from behind him, and he whirled around and held up his hand. "Stop right where you are!" he told the advancing women.

He was still amazed that they actually obeyed him. This was the second or third time this had happened since he'd come to the armory to try -- in vain, as it turned out -- to get some work done. Maybe they were biding their time until the ceremony under the assumption that he'd be permanently in their clutches after that. This plan of T'Pol's and Hoshi's better work, he thought as he turned back to the work table. As it was, he was going to be a nervous wreck by that time.

The main door to the armory opened. Malcolm turned to see who was disturbing what little peace he had. The new arrival was Trip. As he approached the tactical officer, the D'nini parted before him like the Red Sea -- and the Yellow, and Blue, and Green, and Silver.

"Hey, Malcolm!" the engineer said as he came to stand next to his friend. "How's it goin'?"

"It's not." Despite speaking in a whisper, the frustration in Malcolm's voice came through loud and clear. "I can't get a bloody thing done with them around."

Trip glanced at the hushed assembly watching Malcolm. "Maybe ya ought to try finishin' the work on the firing relays. At least they wouldn't be able to follow you up in the crawlways."

"I tried that," Malcolm said grumpily, rubbing a hand across his eyes. "They insisted on remaining in the corridor below me. Every thirty seconds one of them would yell and ask if I was okay. I couldn't get anything done because of all the interruptions. I finally assigned Foster to fix the relays." He turned his back on the women. "It's like being surrounded by a bunch of velvet sharks," he said under his breath.

Trip grinned, amused despite knowing how unsettled Malcolm was. "It's only for a few days. Surely you can tough it out?"

A hoarse laugh erupted from Malcolm. "I honestly don't know if I can." He lowered his voice. "I've seriously been considering checking myself into sickbay for some imaginary ailment or injury."

"This isn't like you, Malcolm," Trip said. "You usually avoid sickbay like the plague."

Malcolm hung his head. "Right now, sickbay is looking better and better."

"Ya know," Trip drawled, "if I was in your position, I'd be workin' it to my advantage."

Malcolm's head shot up and he stared at the engineer. "I know how'd you take advantage of it. Your track record with alien women speaks for itself."

"That was a low blow, Malcolm," Trip said with a touch of heat. "But you're my friend, so I'm gonna help you anyway."

Malcolm snorted skeptically.

"Think about it," Trip continued, drawing Malcolm farther away from the watching women so they wouldn't be overheard. "You can tell 'em you can't...you know...do anything...until after the ceremony. Let 'em get closer, but only when other people are around. The mess hall, for instance. Imagine how jealous the other men on board are going to be, especially when they see you surrounded by these beautiful women. And all the female personnel are gonna wonder what's so special about you," he said with a suggestive waggle of his eyebrows.

Malcolm stared at Trip. "The female personnel...?"

"Yeah. And after this is all over, you shouldn't have any trouble gettin' a date for movie night," Trip said and laughed.

After a moment, Malcolm laughed, too, and slapped Trip on the arm.

* * *

Hoshi ran into Travis in the corridor outside the mess hall on her way to breakfast the next day.

"How's Malcolm holding up under the pressure?" Travis asked as they neared the mess hall door.

Hoshi shrugged. "I haven't talked to him yet today, but okay, I guess. The 'keep your distance' rule seems to be the only thing keeping him sane. If it wasn't for that--" The words she was about to say died in her throat as they stepped into the mess hall and she saw the subject of their conversation. He was seated at a table, surrounded by admiring D'nini. Although the table was small, meant for only four people, all five of the alien women were squeezed around it and Malcolm.

Hoshi heard Travis' startled intake of air as he took in the scene. "Would you look at that?" he said in awe. "I thought he was scared to death of them."

"So did I," Hoshi said, feeling an unaccustomed twinge of jealousy. Decked out in their shimmering outfits, the D'nini put every female crew member in the mess hall to shame.

Malcolm seemed to be enjoying himself, she noticed. Only yesterday he'd been more nervous than she'd ever seen him. What was he up to?

Giving herself a mental shake, she moved over to the serving line, still keeping an eye on the group seated in the center of the mess hall. She saw Neon Blue D'nini put a delicate hand on Malcolm's arm as she said something to him, and he didn't even flinch!

So preoccupied was Hoshi that she almost ran into Trip ahead of her in the serving line.

"Watch it there," Trip told her, putting out his hand to prevent a collision.

"Sorry," she said, glancing yet again at the crowded table where Malcolm was the center of attention. "I can't believe the change in Malcolm."

Trip grinned. "Yeah. Great, isn't it?"


	5. Chapter 5

CHAPTER 5

Phlox was puttering around sickbay, waiting for the results of some lab tests, when Malcolm and his D'nini entourage entered.

"Lieutenant?" Phlox asked, surprised to see the officer alone with the flock of alien women in close attendance. Just the other day the man had been so uncomfortable in their presence that he couldn't wait to get out of sickbay.

Phlox looked over at Liz Cutler who was helping feed his animals this morning. She'd regaled him with the tale of the tactical officer being pursued by the D'nini through the corridors on B deck. She appeared just as puzzled as he was by this change.

Malcolm made his way over to a biobed and sat down. "I stopped in to have you take a look at this," he said, holding up the finger he'd cut while working on the firing relays. The D'nini gazed at the appendage and collectively sighed, perhaps remembering the sight of his blood. "I...ah...wanted to make sure it was healing properly."

Phlox grunted and picked up a medical scanner from a nearby tray. He glanced surreptitiously at the women as he began scanning the injury. They were as focused on Malcolm as they had been the day before. Switching his gaze to the lieutenant, he was amazed to see the man so relaxed in their company. If anything, he appeared to be basking in the women's attention.

Turning off the scanner, Phlox reached for Malcolm's hand to perform a visual inspection. "Hmmmm. It appears to be healing nicely." He released Malcolm's hand. "There really was no need for you to visit sickbay this morning."

"I know," Malcolm said, smirking as several pairs of feminine hands assisted him from the biobed. "Thanks, Doctor."

Phlox and Cutler watched as Malcolm, a D'nini hanging on each arm and the three others following closely, left sickbay.

Phlox was reminded of ancient Earth stories about sultans and harems. He certainly hoped the lieutenant wasn't getting any ideas, at least not without checking with him first. Intimacy between alien species often resulted in complications. In any event, Phlox thought, the situation should prove interesting. He might even be able to get a paper out of it.

He glanced over at Cutler who was staring at the doorway through which the group has just passed. "Interesting turn of events, hmmm?" he said.

Cutler blinked. "I wouldn't have believed it if I hadn't seen it."

"Can you explain it?"

"I'm not sure," Cutler said, shaking her head. "I wouldn't have thought the lieutenant was the type to be chased until he let a woman catch him, much less five."

* * *

Crewman Michael Rostov entered the armory with a report from Engineering. Commander Tucker had told him to give it to Lieutenant Reed, but the man was most definitely occupied at the moment. A discreet clearing of a throat made him look over to one of the work stations where Crewmen Foster and Zabel were tearing apart some phase rifles for cleaning.

Michael stepped over and held out the padd. "I'm supposed to give this to your boss, but he looks a little busy," he said with a tilt of his head toward the group of D'nini clustered around Malcolm at one of the consoles.

"Yeah, he's been busy all morning," said Foster enviously as he took the padd. "I wish I had his work load, if you know what I mean."

"Doesn't that--" Michael gestured in the direction of the tactical officer. "--interfere with his ability to carry out his duties?"

A snicker came from Zabel. "Beats me. But would you care if you were in his position?"

* * *

The turbolift doors opened onto the bridge and Malcolm stepped out. Hoshi was surprised. She hadn't expected him to show up here, not with the D'nini still on board. Then a flash of iridescent green fabric caught her eye, and she realized the D'nini must still be in the 'lift, which she couldn't see from her vantage point at the communications console.

Malcolm glanced once at Trip at the engineering console before approaching the captain where he sat in the command chair. Holding out a padd, Malcolm said, "The weekly status report from the armory, sir."

Jon took the padd, raising an eyebrow as he looked over at his shoulder to the turbolift, the doors of which were still open. He looked back at Malcolm questioningly.

"I'm on my way for my lunch break but thought I'd drop this off first," the tactical officer said by way of explanation.

Jon didn't say anything. He glanced back at the turbolift again, his gaze raking the five silent women who were waiting expectantly. A small smile curved the corners of his mouth and he nodded. "Very good, Malcolm. Carry on," he said, sounding suspiciously like he was trying not to laugh.

From where she was sitting, Hoshi could see a look of distaste cross Malcolm's face before he quickly schooled his features into a bland expression. She had to give him credit, though. He didn't react when a feminine voice from the turbolift called out to him to hurry up. He merely gave the captain a reserved smile, turned around, and walked to the turbolift.

"Hey! Wait up, Malcolm," Trip called from the engineering console. "I'll go with you."

Now Hoshi really wished she could see into the turbolift from where she sat, because she heard Malcolm say, "Sorry, Trip. The 'lift is full. You'll have to catch the next one."

The 'lift door closed, leaving a crestfallen Trip behind on the bridge.

* * *

"Disgusting," muttered Corporal Felicity McKenzie under her breath.

Felicity's comment wasn't directed toward the dinner on her plate; as usual, the food aboard the Starfleet vessel was superb. It was one of the reasons the MACOs had gotten the impression at first that the Starfleeters were a bunch of pampered flyboys. She'd learned from experience that Enterprise's crew members were a lot tougher than they appeared.

No, what was disgusting was the display going on in the middle of the mess hall. Even more shocking was who was involved. She traded a glance with Corporal Amanda Cole, who seemed just as mesmerized by the sight as she was.

"I didn't believe Chang when he said the lieutenant had a bunch of women fawning all over him," Cole said, watching in repulsed fascination as one of the D'nini fed Malcolm a morsel of food. "Of all the Starfleet personnel, I would have thought Reed would be the least susceptible to feminine charms."

McKenzie snorted. "You've got that right. I always got the impression that when he looks at a woman, he's wondering if she knows how to shoot a phase pistol or if she can tell him the precise yield of a torpedo. Who would have known he'd go for the helpless type?"

"Lieutenant Reed's always so in control," Cole commented. "That's one of the things that used to drive Major Hayes crazy about him -- somebody who was more stubborn and sure they were right than he was. I used to think that butter wouldn't melt in his mouth. Now look at him."

Their hushed conversation died away as a shadow fell across their table. Hoshi, tray in hand, was standing next to their table. McKenzie dipped her head toward the vacant chair between her and Cole by way of invitation.

"Thanks," Hoshi said, sitting down and putting a napkin on her lap.

The two MACOs were still contemplating the scene in the middle of the mess hall with disapproving looks. It occurred to Hoshi that she may have found the last two accomplices she needed to enlist.

"Pretty disgusting, isn't it?" Hoshi said, trying to fan the disapproval she was picking up from the other two women. If they didn't like what was going on, maybe they'd agree to help.

McKenzie exhaled loudly and returned her attention to her meal. Shoving some vegetables around with her fork, she said, "You know Lieutenant Reed better than we do. I take it this is out of character for him?"

"Very much so," Hoshi said. "In fact, he's faking it."

McKenzie and Cole stared at her, clearly not getting her drift.

Hoshi glanced around to make there was no one close enough to overhear. Leaning closer to the table, she said in a low voice, "He's putting up a front until the day after tomorrow, when the D'nini abbess arrives to perform the wedding ceremony."

"He's not going through with that, is he?" Cole asked in concern.

"Of course not," Hoshi said, but she couldn't help adding, "although you'd never know it to look at the way he's carrying on with them. It would serve him right if we didn't rescue him."

A smile took the place of McKenzie's previously sour expression. "Tell us more, Ensign."

* * *

Malcolm could feel the curious gazes on him. He hated being in the spotlight. Especially this spotlight, he thought as Silver leaned over to cut his steak. He waved her off, though not in a mean way. The D'nini really were very nice women. Lovely manners, for one thing. Well, other than hanging all over him. But he didn't want to hurt their feelings, and they most definitely didn't need to be doing something so intimate as cutting his food for him. Next thing you knew, they'd be offering to chew it for him.

He sighed inwardly. There was a fine line between graciously declining their attempts to assist him and telling them to sod off, and it was getting thinner all the time. He needed to be careful and pretend that he was enjoying all this.

As it was, he couldn't bring himself to ask their names. So far, they hadn't introduced themselves, either. He'd started mentally referring to them by the color of their dresses. If he knew their names, he postulated, it might mean he was actually getting accustomed to the idea of marrying them, and that was the last thing he wanted. A cold shiver ran down his spine as he wondered if finding out their names was part of another of their weird mating rituals.

When Yellow asked if she could refill his coffee cup, he forced a grateful smile and nodded, happy to have the surrounding body count down by one, if only for a few moments.

Yellow glided off to the beverage dispenser, her departure allowing him to see across the mess hall to a table where Hoshi was sitting with McKenzie and Cole. The two female MACOs kept sneaking glances at him as Hoshi talked to them, and he almost groaned out loud. The plan Hoshi and T'Pol had concocted was bad enough without dragging some of the MACOs into it.

Contrary to Trip's opinion, Hoshi and the MACOs didn't look jealous. Nor did they appear to be wondering what was so special about him that he'd managed to attract of troop of drop-dead gorgeous women. No, they just looked disgusted.

There was no way around it -- he was going to lose the hard-won respect of the MACOs by the time this was over. They might never take him seriously again.

Even worse, the female MACOs might expect him to start treating them differently. He tended to view them first as highly skilled individuals who were good with weapons, and as women second. What would he do if they expected him to treat them like ladies? Not that they weren't ladies, but they were professionals. Okay, that sounded bad even to him, but he knew what he meant.

Yellow returned to the table with his coffee. As he took it from her, he vowed never to listen to Trip Tucker's advice regarding women ever again. All it had ever done in the past was get him in trouble or cause problems. This time was no exception.


	6. Chapter 6

CHAPTER 6

Malcolm managed to disentangle himself from the D'nini after dinner. It was easier than he'd anticipated. He simply told them he was tired and needed to go to his cabin. There was a tense moment when, at their excited response to this announcement, he had to clarify that he needed to rest_ -- _by himself. However, support came from an unexpected source.

"We have been neglecting our meditations," Silver said to the others, who immediately looked chastised. "Just because we are to be formally bonded does not mean we should disregard them."

Knowing that he would soon to be rid of them for the remainder of the evening, Malcolm was able to escort the women to their temporary quarters without letting on how uncomfortable he was in their presence. It was getting harder and harder to keep up the charade, but he made sure he was smiling when they passed any crew members in the corridor. Arriving at their door, he wished the women good evening, and they issued a chorus of farewells. He walked away, trying not to look back to make sure they hadn't changed their minds and were following him.

He made it to his own cabin without incident. He let himself in and leaned back against the door when it closed, savoring his solitude.

He hadn't relaxed more than two seconds when the comm beeped. He stepped over to his desk with a sense of dread. Surely the D'nini hadn't figured out how to contact him over the intercom. He thumbed the button and said, "Reed."

_"Hey, Malcolm!" _came Trip's voice. _"How's it goin'?"_

Malcolm's pent-up anxiety swiftly turned to irritation at the sound of the engineer's voice. "I am never taking your advice again!"

There were a few moments of silence, during which Malcolm glared at the comm panel, before Trip spoke again._ "That well, huh?"_

Malcolm pulled back his hand, now clenched into a fist, and barely stopped himself from punching the comm panel. He took a deep breath through his nose, held it a moment, then exhaled noisily through his mouth.

_"Malcolm?"_

Malcolm tilted his head back and closed his eyes.

_"You still there, Malcolm? You're startin' to worry me."_

Malcolm opened one eye and glared at the comm panel. "You're worried?" he asked sarcastically. "I'm the one with five women who think they're going to marry me in a couple of days. And I'm still not able to get any work done." He laughed without humor. "The only good thing about this is that I'm eating better than I have in a long time -- because those damned D'nini are practically hand-feeding me every time we go to the mess hall!"

Malcolm's voice had risen to a shrill pitch on the last few words, and clucking sounds came over the comm when he finished.

_"Get a grip, Malcolm," _Trip told him. _"You probably shouldn't refer to those women with cuss words. They belong to some sort of a religious order, you know."_

With a growl, Malcolm punched the button to cut the connection.

* * *

When the turbolift door opened on the bridge the next morning and Malcolm stepped out, Hoshi half expected him to be followed by the D'nini, or at least for them to be waiting inside the 'lift for him as they had the day before. But the door closed behind him without discharging any other passengers. He walked to the tactical console, avoiding eye contact with everyone on the bridge.

Hoshi wasn't the only one observing Malcolm. Jon and Travis, seated at their respective stations, turned in their chairs to follow his progress across the upper bridge level. T'Pol, facing Malcolm's direction where she was seated at the science station, didn't have to be so obvious. Feeling the combined weight of their stares, Malcolm looked up briefly as he settled at his console, and just as quickly looked back down and began working.

Jon traded a glance with T'Pol, then got up from his chair to approach Malcolm. Leaning against the railing in front of the tactical console, Jon asked, "Everything okay?"

Still looking down, Malcolm nodded.

"Malcolm?" Jon asked.

The tactical officer looked up. Even from across the bridge, Hoshi could see the dark rings under his eyes.

"You look terrible, Malcolm," Jon said in concern.

Malcolm flashed a small, strained smile at his superior officer and replied, "I didn't get much sleep last night, sir."

Jon stood up straight at this revelation. "You weren't with...? Um...the D'nini didn't..?"

Malcolm shook his head and then lowered it in embarrassment. Straining to catch his words on the other side of the bridge, Hoshi almost burst out laughing when she heard him say softly, "They figured out how to use the comm system, sir."

"The comm system?" Jon repeated.

"Yes, sir. It never occurred to me to ban them from using it when we set down the conditions for this...arrangement," Malcolm said, adding in weary disgust, "They called me every thirty minutes or so all through the night."

"They're just concerned about your well-being, Malcolm," Jon said placatingly.

Malcolm grimaced. "I know that, sir. But their 'concern' is interfering with my ability to carry out my duties."

"It's just one more day. I'm sure you can handle it," Jon said, shifting on his feet and glancing toward the turbolift door. "By the way, where are they?"

"I fell back on the 'keeping your distance' rule for this morning," the tactical officer said with a half-hearted smirk. The smirk quickly faded and he sighed. "I'm meeting them for lunch."

* * *

T'Pol and Liz Cutler were already in Hoshi's cabin when she opened her door and let in Felicity McKenzie and Amanda Cole.

"We're all here, so we can get started," Hoshi said, moving over to sit on her bed next to Liz. T'Pol was seated in the only chair, so the two MACOs sat cross-legged on the floor.

"I can't believe we're going to rescue Lieutenant Reed -- from a bunch of women!" Amanda said with a snort.

T'Pol fixed her with a cool gaze. "There is as much strategy required in this situation as in some hostile encounters. Careful planning will ensure its successful outcome." She referred to a padd she was holding. "Ensign Sato has found some pertinent information regarding the intricacies of D'nini culture pertaining to marriage. We should review it before we finish formulating a plan for the ceremony."

"I still can't get over that he could be allowed to marry five women at the same time," Liz remarked.

"Many cultures permit more than one spouse," T'Pol said dryly. "However, the official marriage ceremony usually does not include more than one spouse at a time. It is more of a gradual accumulation of mates, most often for the purpose of procreation."

Still looking at her padd, T'Pol missed Liz rolling her eyes. Hoshi bit her lip to keep from giggling. Facing them across the small cabin, the two MACOs had amused gleams dancing in their eyes.

"Is there a way that we can use this -- the D'nini allowing more than one spouse -- to our advantage?" asked Felicity.

"That is an excellent suggestion," T'Pol said. "Since there are five D'nini who saw his blood, the logical course of action is to find five women aboard Enterprise who can express an interest in the lieutenant. I believe we have fulfilled this requirement, as there are five of us here."

Dead silence greeted this remark. T'Pol glanced from face to face, noting her companions' expressions of confusion, disbelief, and amused anticipation. The latter was from the MACOs. Perhaps it hadn't been prudent to enlist their help, she reflected. Despite their respect for Lieutenant Reed, there was still an undercurrent of rivalry between the MACOs and Starfleet security personnel.

Then again, she thought as she considered further, that rivalry might spur them on in this endeavor. Whether from a desire to help or the wish to see someone ridiculed, motivation was often the most important key to success.

* * *

Malcolm excused himself from the D'nini at the mess hall table and made his way over to the beverage dispenser. The novelty of five beautiful women waiting on him hand and foot had worn off about four meals ago. It wasn't so much that they'd do whatever he wanted. It was that they were starting to try to anticipate his needs. He was constantly telling them he didn't need his coffee refilled, or didn't want a taste of whatever they were eating, or that he didn't need a back rub.

Actually, he could use a back rub, with a foot massage thrown in for good measure, but not from any of them. He was afraid where it might lead. The one point T'Pol and Hoshi had made embarrassingly clear was that there was to be no consummation before the ceremony. Apparently that was just as binding as a formal wedding under D'nini customs. Not that he had any intention of such a thing happening. But, if the women went with him back to his cabin, they might get carried away in their enthusiasm, and he had no idea if they considered anything other than what he considered as consummation as the real thing. He just as soon not find out, either.

As he refilled his cup at the beverage dispenser, he realized with a start that he was seriously starting to question his masculinity. Five women at one time had to be the ultimate male fantasy, and here he was practically shaking in his boots. Maybe if he wasn't an officer on active duty aboard a starship, things might be different, but he seriously doubted it.

His brief respite was over and he had to go back to the table. He sighed heavily as he took his cup out of the dispenser. Turning around, he almost ran into Phlox. This was another thing he'd been worrying about -- he'd been so preoccupied that he hadn't heard the Denobulan sneak up on him. No one ever sneaked up on him. He was losing his edge.

"If I interpreted your non-verbal utterance correctly," Phlox said, "you are not happy."

Malcolm didn't say anything. He glared at the doctor, then looked at the table where the five D'nini were waiting for him.

Phlox followed his gaze and said, "Ah. I understand. Even we Denobulans know that too much of a good thing isn't necessarily good. We limit ourselves to three. And even then, we share. My wives each have two other husbands." The doctor paused, tilting his head as he contemplated the group at the table. "Perhaps that might help alleviate your situation."

"What are you talking about?" Malcolm asked impatiently.

"I'm sure there are some other men on board who would be willing to...lighten your load, so to speak," Phlox said with a huge smile.

"Tempting as that is, Doctor, I don't think it will work," Malcolm said. In a voice dripping sarcasm, he added, "They've seen my blood, remember? How could the other men on board possibly compete with me? Besides, they haven't shown the slightest interest in any of the other men on board."

"Ah, yes. Well, it was worth a shot."

Malcolm scowled at Phlox before moving off. He was aware of the doctor watching him as he returned to the D'nini, and he wasn't the least surprised when the Denobulan took a seat at a nearby table. The doctor was probably hoping to get a published paper out of his predicament.

The only bright spot in this whole fiasco was that he was going to take Trip down with him. Cheered by the thought of revenge, he was able to keep a pleasant expression on his face for the rest of the meal.

* * *

Malcolm led his retinue into Engineering where work came to a standstill at their entrance. The only one not affected was Trip, who was up on the elevated warp control platform and had his back to them. Trip eventually became aware of something happening -- or rather, not happening -- when he glanced around and saw several of his staff staring at the deck behind and below him.

Trip turned around and a grin crossed his face as he looked down at Malcolm and his chippies. He'd heard Malcolm refer to them by that name, and their bright clothing did remind him of certain birds. Not that he'd ever say the word chippies out loud to them. The way Malcolm had used it hadn't exactly been polite.

Putting his hands on the rail, he rested his weight on them and asked, "What can I do for ya, Malcolm?"

The tactical officer took his time replying. He glanced at the faces of the beautiful women surrounding him before looking up at Trip. Last night, he had gotten the impression that Malcolm wasn't happy about cuddling up to the quintet, but you'd never know it by looking at him now. Malcolm must have had a change of heart about following his advice. For one thing, he was wearing the most supercilious smirk Trip had ever seen.

"I just wanted to let you know you need to be in the cargo bay no later than 0930 tomorrow," Malcolm said.

"The wedding's not until 1000," Trip said. "Don't worry. I'll make sure I'm there in plenty of time to get a good seat."

Smirking even more, if that was possible, Malcolm said, "You're going to be my best man."

Trip scratched his head and started down the ladder to the deck. "I thought this was going to be a D'nini ceremony. They have best men?"

"No," Malcolm said as Trip finished climbing down the ladder and came over. "We've decided to incorporate some Earth customs. Haven't we, my lovelies?" On this last remark, Malcolm patted Silver's hand, which was clasped on his arm.

"Oh, yes," Silver said enthusiastically. "We've decided we need to learn more about your culture if we are to be good life mates for our husband."

Trip didn't know what to say. It almost sounded like Malcolm was going to go through with the wedding. He watched as Malcolm urged the women toward the door. The women all stepped through into the corridor outside, but Malcolm paused at the hatch, looking back at the speechless engineer.

"By the way, Trip," Malcolm said. "You're also going to give the brides away."


	7. Chapter 7

CHAPTER 7

Hoshi met T'Pol the next morning outside the door to the cargo bay where the wedding ceremony was to take place. As befitting the occasion, T'Pol was dressed in flowing, formal Vulcan robes, and looked very regal. Hoshi, on the other hand, was decked out in Starfleet's version of a dress uniform. She supposed it was okay. Designed somewhat like an old-fashioned, short-jacketed tuxedo, it was definitely snazzier than the duty uniform jumpsuit, but it didn't do a darned thing for her feminine assets.

"Everything is in readiness?" T'Pol asked.

"The abbess is still with Captain Archer," Hoshi said. "He'll bring her here just before the ceremony is to begin."

The pair fell silent as they stepped aside to allow several crew members to enter the cargo bay. After the door closed behind them, T'Pol asked, "How did the abbess react when the captain told her about Mr. Reed's predicament?"

"It was hard to tell," she replied. "I'm not sure, but I think the abbess was amused. She did say she realizes that there can be misunderstandings when two species meet for the first time."

One of T'Pol's eyebrows lifted. "So she is willing to help us?"

"Yes. In fact, I think she's going to use this as a cautionary lesson for other members of her order about what might happen to them if they decide to go on an off-world pilgrimage."

Trip appeared around the curve in the corridor then, tugging on the cuffs of his dress uniform jacket as he strode toward them. Joining the two women, he let out a soft groan. "I can't believe we have to wear these monkey suits. It's not like Malcolm's gonna go through with it."

Having expected Trip to escort the D'nini to the cargo bay since he was supposed to give them away, Hoshi shushed him and peered behind him to see if any of the brides-to-be were present and had overheard his comment.

"Relax, Hoshi," he said when he noticed her anxious scanning of the hallway. "I didn't lose 'em. Liz Cutler's with them. They''ll be along shortly."

More crew members and several MACOs came down the corridor headed for the cargo bay. All the Starfleet personnel were in dress uniforms, but the MACOs were wearing their usual brown camouflage outfits. They appeared to be more prepared for a fight than a wedding. Given the situation, that assessment might not be too far off the mark, Hoshi realized.

"Where's Travis?" she asked Trip. "I haven't seen him."

Trip smiled. "Since I'm supposed to walk the brides down the aisle, I couldn't fulfill my duty as best man of keepin' Malcolm from makin' a break for it. So I assigned Travis that task."

"Lieutenant Reed is too exemplary of an officer to desert his post," T'Pol said. "In addition, there is no where to run."

"You don't know much about human weddings, do ya?" Trip said.

_Neither do you, Trip, _Hoshi thought. She'd been the one to ask the abbess to help implement Malcolm's only suggestion for the ceremony. Trip was going to be in for a big surprise.

* * *

Travis watched as Malcolm paced back and forth in a small compartment off the cargo bay. The helmsman had been briefed on the plan by Hoshi that morning, but he couldn't help but feel that Malcolm was more uptight than he had reason to be. Then again, if this didn't work, the man was going to be married -- to five women at once!

"It should be all over in a little less than an hour," Travis said in what he hoped was a soothing voice.

"That's what I'm afraid of," Malcolm said tightly as he strode over to the bulkhead, pivoted, and turned to pace the width of the compartment. "If it doesn't go the way T'Pol and Hoshi planned, I'm going to have five 'balls and chains.'" The last three words were uttered in perfect mimickry of Trip's Southern accent.

Travis chuckled at the imitation. "I'm sure it will go fine," he said.

"The only satisfaction I'm going to get out of this is what's going to happen to Trip," Malcolm said.

"What's going to happen to Commander Tucker?" Travis asked curiously.

Malcolm stopped pacing and looked at Travis with a devious light in his eyes. "You know that part in the marriage ceremony when the father gives the bride away?" he asked. Travis nodded. "Well, there's a D'nini custom we're incorporating into the ceremony. The brides aren't the only things he'll be giving away."

The hatch to the compartment opened and the captain stuck his head in. "It's time," he said as he stepped over the threshold.

"Yes, sir," Travis said. He squeezed past Jon and made his way out the hatch.

"You know, Malcolm, this isn't a court-martial, or even a firing squad," Jon said.

"No, sir," Malcolm said. "It's worse."

Jon started to laugh, but stopped when Malcolm didn't join in. He put his hand on the younger man's shoulder. "Everything will work out fine," Jon said reassuringly. "And if it doesn't...Well, we'll just let Starfleet's legal division handle it, and you'll be free for years while they're getting everything straightened out."

"How very comforting," Malcolm murmured, his face going even paler than it had been.

Jon gave him an encouraging smile and, keeping his hand on his shoulder, propelled him to the hatch.

Ducking to avoid hitting his head on the top of the hatch, Malcolm stepped into the cargo bay. Only the presence of the captain behind him kept him moving when he looked out over those gathered. Everyone who was off duty must be here, he realized, taking in the rows of chairs that had been set up for the ceremony.

Swallowing nervously, he shook off the captain's hand from his shoulder and made his way toward the front of the assembly. Travis, while not an official member of the wedding party, was standing off to the side near the front. T'Pol and Hoshi, along with Doctor Phlox, were sitting in the first row.

A dignified female D'nini he hadn't seen before was standing near a podium. She had to be the abbess. Malcolm hadn't had a chance to meet her. She'd come aboard a few hours before and had immediately been whisked into conference with the captain and Hoshi.

Unlike the D'nini who had been the bane of his last few days, this one was showing signs of age. She stood with a slight stoop, and her face was lined. It was impossible to guess how old she was, but her eyes sparkled with lively intelligence and she practically radiated wisdom as she avidly took in the surroundings. Unlike the other D'nini who were always in their bright outfits, this one was dressed in stark black. He was reminded of the raven in a poem by Edgar Allen Poe, and immediately thrust that image aside. His mood was melancholy enough as it was.

As Malcolm drew nearer, the abbess gazed appraisingly at him, as if measuring him by some unknown standard. Taking a deep breath, he moved to stand next to her and was rewarded with a serene smile. That should have made him feel better, but all it did was reinforce the feeling of being a lamb led to slaughter.

The cargo bay was full to capacity. Not only was every seat taken, but there were crew members standing at the rear. _Wonderful, _Malcolm thought, pessimism temporarily superceding his dread. _Who the bloody hell was running the ship while all this was going on?_

The door at the rear of the cargo bay opened and Trip stepped in. The engineer looked over at one of his staff members, who pressed a button on one of the consoles. Malcolm supposed the alien sounds that came over the speakers was music, but it didn't bear the slightest resemblance to "The Wedding March." Not having taken part in the planning of the actual ceremony -- well, other than his own devious little plan within the plan -- he wasn't cognizant of all the details. All Hoshi had told him was that he'd know what to do when the time came.

Trip turned back to the door and held out his hand. The first of the D'nini fiancees, Silver, took Trip's hand and stepped through. She was wearing the same outfit she had been the past three days. Malcolm was momentarily disappointed that she wasn't wearing something more wedding-like. Then he berated himself for thinking such a thing because it didn't matter what Silver was wearing -- he was not getting married!

Trip walked Silver down the aisle between the seats, and presented her to Malcolm. It was only then that Malcolm noticed there was something different about her appearance. She reached up and took a flower from behind her ear and, with a shy smile, handed it to him.

Malcolm managed a strained smile in return as he took the flower. _Just bloody lovely! _he thought, feeling a tickle in his nasal cavities as his allergies began to kick in. He was trying to unobtrusively rub his nose when, as Trip turned to go back down the aisle for the next bride, the abbess spoke for the first time.

"Wait!" she said, addressing Trip. "You have 'given away' this bride, but in your role as her protector and guardian, symbolic though it is, you must also renounce your symbolic hold on her."

Seeing Trip frown, Malcolm tried to fight down a smirk, as well as a sneeze, as his plan was set in motion.

"Renounce my claim?" the engineer asked. "How do I do that?"

The abbess gifted him with a kindly smile. "You are not familiar with D'nini customs, so I will explain. To renounce your claim, you must forfeit a personal article and give it to the bride as a token of your esteem as well as your approval of her choice of mate."

"A personal article?" Trip asked, his frown deepening.

Her gaze raked him up and down. "You do not appear to have brought anything with you, so a piece of clothing will have to suffice," she said.

Trip's eyes bugged out. He glanced at Malcolm who, battling the impending sneeze, couldn't have smirked if he wanted to. Trip shifted his gaze to the captain standing on the other side of the abbess. All he got there was a stern glare, the intent of which was plain -- do it.

Muttering under his breath, Trip glanced down at himself. "Well, I suppose I can take off the jacket," he said, unbuttoning the item in question. "It's pretty damned-- I mean, it's uncomfortable anyway." He shrugged out of the jacket, folded it, and tried to hand it to the abbess. She shook her head and indicated it should go to Silver.

Trip handed the jacket to Silver just as Malcolm's sneeze finally burst free. The explosive sound made Silver drop the jacket, which fell to the deck as she fumbled with one sleeve of her gown. Retrieving a square of linen cloth from up her sleeve, she pressed it into Malcolm's hand with a look of concern.

"Thank you," he mumbled, turning so his back was to the congregation as he blew his nose. Turning back around, he saw that Trip was already at the cargo bay hatch. This time he had Neon Blue on his arm. He also noticed that, just as Silver had done, this D'nini had placed a flower behind her ear. Once again, when Trip came to stand before him with his charge, the flower was presented, and once again, he felt the urge to sneeze as his sinuses responded to the pollen in the flower.

Sniffing and squinting his eyes in an effort to keep from sneezing again, Malcolm saw Trip spin on his heel after depositing Neon Blue next to Silver. But the abbess wouldn't let him off so easily.

"Wait!" the abbess called out. "You must renounce your claim on this bride."

Trip stopped in his tracks. He slowly turned back to face the small but authoritative woman. "You can't be serious?" he asked. "I have to give up a piece of clothing for each one of them?"

The abbess closed her eyes and nodded.

Trip's gaze darted in desperation to Malcolm, then the captain, and back to the abbess. "Can't one piece symbolize my giving up all of 'em?" he asked.

The abbess opened her eyes and slowly shook her head.

Malcolm watched in satisfaction as Trip stood there figuring out exactly how much clothing he was going to have to remove and what he'd have left by the time he got the fifth bride down the aisle.

"Maybe I can go back to my cabin and get something else to give them?" Trip suggested hopefully.

"No," the abbess intoned solemnly. "Once the ceremony has begun, it cannot be interrupted, or its validity will be called into question. Such incidents have caused serious social rifts on our planet in the past."

As Trip shifted uneasily from foot to foot, the abbess appeared to lose patience. "Young man, you and your people agreed to follow D'nini custom for portions of this ceremony. We D'nini agreed to adhere to some of your customs. Do you wish to cause the first interstellar incident in recorded D'nini history?"

Trip stuttered something unintelligible and glanced at Jon. Jon glared back.

"No, ma'am," Trip said. "We don't want to do that." With a sigh of resignation, he lifted one foot and took off his boot. He repeated the process with his other foot, but only handed one boot to Neon Blue. Tucking the second boot under his arm, he turned around and strode down the aisle in his socks.

Despite his discomfort, Malcolm felt himself relax a bit. At least he wasn't the only one being embarrassed. Obviously Trip intended to present the other boot to the next bride, but he wondered what the man would take off for the fourth and the fifth.

Saffron Yellow was the next one to join them. She presented her flower and Malcolm sneezed. Trip handed over the boot and turned to head back to the door when the voice of the abbess rang out yet again.

"Wait!" she called out.

"Oh, for pete's sake!" Trip cried in frustration as he spun back around. "What is it this time?"

"The boot is not sufficient," she replied. "Each gift must be different."

"What the--!" Trip spluttered. "What am I gonna do with one boot?"

The abbess merely lifted an eyebrow in a manner eeriely reminiscent of T'Pol. Trip pursed his lips and grabbed the boot from Yellow and handed it to Neon Blue, who now had a matching pair. Lifting one foot, he slid the sock off. "I suppose the same rule applies for socks?" he asked, unable to keep the sarcasm out of his tone.

The abbess nodded.

Trip tugged off his other sock and thrust the pair into Yellow's hands. Malcolm, sniffling, couldn't keep from snickering as Trip mustered what little dignity he had left and walked barefoot back down the aisle. When the three D'nini brides eyed him curiously, Malcolm changed the snicker to a sniffle, and in moments another piece of linen was pressed into his hand.

Red was the next bride down the aisle. She presented her flower to Malcolm, who sneezed several times.

An expectant hush filled the cargo bay. Every eye in the cargo bay was on Trip, who had yet to remove another item of clothing.

With a muttered curse, Trip began unbuttoning his dress shirt. Malcolm could hear soft laughter coming from the rows of crewmen. He dared to glance past the abbess at the captain. He could see a muscle in Jon's jaw twitch, even though the captain was stone-faced.

Trip practically ripped his shirt off and handed it to Red. Then without wasting a moment, he turned and marched one last time down the aisle. Malcolm could see crew members sober as Trip, now dressed only in pants and a T-shirt, glared at them as he passed, only to start laughing again once he walked by.

Green was waiting for Trip at the door. She eagerly took his arm and, before they had traversed half the length of the aisle, took the flower from behind her ear. When they got to the front, she immediately handed the flower -- and a handkerchief -- to Malcolm.

As Malcolm sneezed yet again, the thought crossed his mind that perhaps the ceremony could be canceled because of his allergic reaction. Maybe that's what Hoshi had had in mind when she'd told him he'd know what to do when the time came. She'd probably known that flowers would be involved, and she was well aware of his allergies. His gaze sought her out in the front row, but he couldn't catch her eye. She, along with everyone else, was watching Trip.

The engineer was still standing in front of Green. His face had taken on a distinct ruddy hue. Malcolm savored Trip's embarrassment, if only because it was keeping him from dwelling on what would happen if the plan fell apart. For all he knew, it had already. Not for the first time he wondered why T'Pol and Hoshi hadn't seen fit to inform him of the particulars.

After an interminable stretch during which no one moved or said anything, Malcolm saw Trip close his eyes and undo the clasp on his dress pants. There was dead silence as Trip unzipped the pants and let them fall from his hips. He stepped out of them, squatted to pick them up, and with a face that looked like it was carved in red granite, handed them to Green.

Applause as well as laughter burst from the audience. Malcolm even heard a catcall or two, which was understandable. Trip was not wearing regulation skivvies. He was wearing boxers in what had to be the most horrendous shade of orange that he had ever seen. Still, the reaction from those watching seemed a bit extreme -- until Trip turned and walked over to stand next to Jon, and Malcolm was able to see his backside.

The word "GENIUS" was emblazoned in huge black letters on the back of the boxers.

Jon raised his hands, asking for quiet, and order slowly returned. As he lowered his arms, he looked at Trip with raised eyebrows.

"My mother gave 'em to me," Malcolm heard Trip mutter to the captain.

Malcolm's amusment at the engineer's embarrassment -- well deserved, in his opinion, after Trip's advice about how to handle the D'nini had backfired -- suddenly gave way to apprehension. He still had no idea how he was going to avoid getting married to the five D'nini.

This time when he sought out Hoshi's face in the crowd, he was able to catch her eye. She smiled confidently at him, but it did nothing to rid him of the feeling that he'd been shot in the gut with a phase pistol blast.

He steeled himself as the abbess moved away from the podium and walked toward him.


	8. Chapter 8

CHAPTER 8

Malcolm broke out in a cold sweat as the abbess halted in front on him. The preliminaries over and done with, the actual ceremony was about to begin, and he had yet to see anything indicating how he was going to get out of this mess.

The abbess studied his face carefully. Malcolm stared back, trying to keep his face expressionless. He wasn't certain, but he thought he saw a glimmer of amusement in the old woman's eyes. He was assuming she had agreed to help, but what if she hadn't? That thought was so appalling that it temporarily dried up his drippy sinuses.

Without warning, the abbess bowed to him. She took a step to the side and came to stop before Silver, the first of the D'nini lined up next to him. The abbess took Silver's hands in hers and began chanting something in their native language. At intervals, Silver responded, her voice high and clear.

After several minutes of this, the abbess moved over to Neon Blue. The chanting was repeated with bride No. 2, and then with each of the other three D'nini. By the time the abbess finished up with Green, Malcolm was light-headed from dreadful anticipation.

The abbess slowly made her way back to Malcolm. Taking his hand, she led him to the podium where Jon, flanked by the underwear-clad Trip, was waiting. Malcolm looked searchingly at their faces for some clue as to what was to happen, but to no avail. Jon's face was carefully blank, and Trip was too preoccupied with his own embarrassing dilemma.

Jon cleared his throat. "Ladies and gentlemen, officers and crew. We are gathered here today to join this man and this...I mean, _these..._women in matrimony. As you have already noticed, the ceremony has aspects of both D'nini and human cultures. What you just witnessed was the D'nini admonition to new brides to be good and faithful wives."

Malcolm closed his eyes. He couldn't believe this was happening. Then, as Jon continued speaking, his eyes snapped open as he realized he might miss whatever it was that was supposed to save him.

"The next part of the ceremony is a traditional human custom. I must ask the age-old question: Is there anyone here who believes this man and these women should not be wed? Speak now, or forever hold your peace."

As the groom, Malcolm was pretty sure he wasn't supposed to object. But he didn't care. He most certainly objected. He'd never been more certain of anything in his life. This must be the opportunity Hoshi had hinted about. He opened his mouth to speak, but before any words could come out, a voice from the front row rang out.

"He can't get married to them because he promised he'd marry me!"

Surprised gasps filled the cargo bay. Hoshi had jumped to her feet, her fists clenched and her body stiff with outrage. Malcolm's first thought was that he was never going to be able to repay Hoshi for putting on such a convincing act. It was quickly followed by another: He'd never asked Hoshi to marry him! What the bloody hell was going on?

Another voice rose over the murmurs coming from the audience.

"He promised he'd marry me, too!"

All heads swiveled toward the back of the cargo bay where Liz Cutler stood near the door. Malcolm's jaw dropped as she strode to the front and stood beside Hoshi.

"He promised he'd marry both of us," Liz said.

Hoshi nodded vigorously. "That's right. We've been talking about a group marriage for some time."

Malcolm risked a glance at the five D'nini. He couldn't see the slightest hint of worry on their faces. The abbess didn't appear upset, either.

"Malcolm?"

That was Jon. Malcolm looked dazedly at the captain, who seemed to be waiting for some sort of confirmation in the wake of Hoshi and Liz's declarations. Malcolm's mouth moved but no words came out. He had absolutely no idea what to say. Then he was distracted by the sight of T'Pol getting to her feet and gathering her robes around her.

"I believe now is the appropriate time to announce that Lieutenant Reed and I are also betrothed," said the Vulcan.

This statement was greeted by louder murmuring from the crowd and, even though he was nearly in a state of shock, Malcolm was aware of Trip's muttered, "What the hell?"

Trip took a step toward Malcolm but was stopped when Jon gripped his arm. "Calm down, Trip," Jon said. "We don't want any fighting at a wedding ceremony, especially between the best man and the groom. What kind of example would that be?"

Jon firmly pushed Trip back and walked over to the abbess. They conferred in low tones for several moments, the buzz of the seated crew members growing all the while. Jon had to ask for quiet when he returned to the podium.

"The abbess has informed me that the declarations by Ensign Sato, Crewman Cutler, and Commander T'Pol have no effect on the wedding," he said. "Only if there is an equal number of contestants...that is, potential spouses who contest the wedding...will the ceremony be considered invalid."

Malcolm was beginning to get an idea of how T'Pol and Hoshi planned to get him out of this. Two more female crew members would stand up, say that he'd proposed to them, and that would be that. His gaze darted around the cargo bay, seeking the next person who would come to his aid, even as he marveled at the beauty of the plan. They'd managed to find a way to keep this farce from going through without affronting the D'ninis' sense of honor. In a short time, the five alien women and their abbess would depart, and his life could get back to normal.

Or not. Jon's next words were accompanied by the return of the icy fingers that had been running up and down his spine ever since the D'nini had started carrying on about seeing his blood.

"Even if there is an equal number of potential spouses who have reason to object," he heard Jon say, "a challenge may be issued by those who were to be married in this ceremony." He indicated the five D'nini standing off to one side.

Sure enough, the D'ninis were gazing confidently at the three female Enterprise crew members standing in the front row. Of course, they probably didn't know that T'Pol could wipe the deck with them, and that Hoshi was no slouch in the self-defense department, either. And it was five to three. The odds were in the D'ninis' favor.

Malcolm groaned. There was no way around it. They were going to cause an interstellar incident as soon as two more women came forward. He supposed he should be flattered -- so many women fighting over him -- but he couldn't find it in himself to feel that way.

As Jon called for quiet one more time, Malcolm's heart sank. No one was stepping forward. That could mean only one thing -- in a few short moments, he was going to be married.

"All right," Jon said. "If there are no more objections--"

The door to the cargo bay crashed open. Everyone jumped and looked in that direction. Malcolm wished he could melt through the deck and disappear when Corporals McKenzie and Cole stepped in. Not only were they dressed in their standard camouflage fatigues, but they were each carrying a phase rifle. They marched confidently up the aisle to the front row where they took up position on either side of the three standing female crew members.

As he forced himself to take deep breaths, Malcolm wondered if the late Major Hayes was rolling over in his grave.

"We object!" yelled Cole.

"You too, Amanda?" Malcolm heard Trip's anguished whisper before the crowd erupted.

Travis came up behind Malcolm as Jon called for quiet yet again. Malcolm didn't know if Travis was there for moral support or to keep him from running. It didn't matter -- he believed it entirely possible that Travis would wind up catching him when he fainted in shame.

Why had they picked Cole to do this? Everyone knew the female MACO and Trip had been interested in each other a while back. It was bad enough that T'Pol was standing up for him. She and Trip had had an on-again, off-again relationship for several years now.

Trying to look on the bright side, Malcolm told himself that, at the very least, Travis could help protect him from Trip if the engineer's ego was bruised any more.

Shouting over the commotion generated by the female MACOs' appearance, Jon asked, "Did Lieutenant Reed ask you two to marry him as well?"

Cole said something, but her answer was drowned out by the excited crew members. Without warning, McKenzie lifted her rifle and fired off a shot in the direction of the overhead bulkhead.

The response was immediate. The assembled crew fell silent. All the D'nini except the abbess cringed.

"Thank you," Jon said to McKenzie.

"No problem, sir," she responded crisply.

Shifting his gaze to Cole, Jon said, "You were trying to say something?"

"Yes, sir." Cole straightened until she was at full attention. "Lieutenant Reed has not asked us to marry him, sir."

Malcolm caught a glimpse of Jon's expression as he stared down at the MACO. The captain hadn't been prepared for that answer. Malcolm had to admit it was perhaps a bit much to expect the D'nini to believe that he had proposed to five separate women.

"Then what is the basis for your objection?" Jon asked.

"Corporal McKenzie and I were planning to ask Lieutenant Reed to marry each of us in a joint ceremony," Cole responded, adding in a surly tone, "We just hadn't found a romantic way to do it yet."

Jon raised his hands, quelling the laughter coming from the audience, as he asked, "But, you mean you two want to marry Lieutenant Reed...without the other three women that he's proposed to?" He looked over his shoulder at the abbess, who emphatically shook her head. Apparently it had to be five at once or nothing.

McKenzie shifted the rifle to rest its stock on her hip. "That was the plan, sir. But then this came up and, well, if we have to share Lieutenant Reed with three other women, so be it. We don't want him to get away."

"Yes, sir," put in Cole. "We decided that a piece of him is better than nothing at all, which is what we'd have if they--" She jerked her head toward the D'nini. "--get a hold of him."

Malcolm felt the blood rush to his face. Maybe he could get a rifle away from McKenzie or Cole and just shoot himself. Then it wouldn't matter if the plan to get him out of this insane marriage worked or not.

So wrapped up was he in his humiliation that he almost missed it when the captain turned to him and said, "Well, Malcolm. What do you say? Do you accept their proposal?"

He could feel the eyes of all five D'nini on him. He dared not look at them. Instead, he gazed at the five women from Enterprise standing before him. They were all exceptional women. McKenzie and Cole were competent MACOs whose skills he valued. T'Pol, for whom he'd once harbored a secret crush, was now a trusted superior officer. Liz Cutler...well, he didn't know her very well, but she had more than pulled her own weight over the years on Enterprise, not only in her area of expertise but taking on duties in sickbay as well.

And then there was Hoshi. Of the five, he knew her the best. She'd proven herself talented as well as capable in her chosen field once she'd gotten her space legs. On occasion, her abilities had meant the difference between success and failure for their missions. Of all the people on Enterprise, she was one of the few whom he could honestly call a friend. So why was she glaring at him right now?

He started as he realized everyone was waiting on his answer to the captain's question.

Travis, still standing behind him, leaned forward and asked, "Are you okay?"

Malcolm nodded and thrust the flowers he'd been holding into Travis' hand. He wet his dry lips with his tongue and said, "I accept."

All the Starfleet personnel as well as the MACOs in the cargo bay went wild. Cheers and whistles echoed off the bulkheads, and the sound of clapping was deafening. This time, Jon didn't try to stop them. He just stood at the podium, a bemused expression on his face, as the furor went on and on.

It was all very well for the crew to applaud, Malcolm thought, but it didn't solve the larger problem which was looming here. He looked anxiously at the captain, knowing full well what was going through the man's mind. If the D'nini decided to issue a challenge, any chance of Earth developing a good relationship with their planet would be shot down just as surely as if he'd launched a torpedo at their homeworld himself. Although, from his perspective, that would be preferrable to being married to five women.

Wallowing in his despair, Malcolm watched through bleary, allergy-irritated eyes as Jon left the podium to confer with the abbess again. After a few moments of hushed conversation with the captain, the abbess gathered her little flock around her. Malcolm had no idea what they were talking about.

Trip took the opportunity to sidle over to him. "I never screwed things up this badly when I got involved with an alien woman," he said disgustedly.

"You're one to talk," Malcolm muttered. "We all know who got pregnant -- without the benefit of a wedding."

Trip's eyes narrowed, and Jon stepped between the two before more angry words spilled over. "Let's keep calm, gentlemen," Jon said. "This is the only part of the ceremony over which we have no control. It's up to the abbess now."

Casting a dubious glance at the D'nini listening to their abbess, Trip asked, "What if they decide to challenge? Any one of our gals, including Liz, could probably whip their--"

Jon cut him off. "Let's hope it doesn't come to that."

Several minutes passed as Malcolm nervously awaited the D'ninis' response. At last the abbess turned and approached them. But instead of stopping to speak with Jon, she went straight to the podium. As she gazed out over the crew of the Enterprise, her countenance gave no hint of what she was thinking. Then her gaze came to rest on Hoshi, T'Pol, and the other women who had contested Malcolm's marriage to the D'nini.

McKenzie suddenly twirled her rifle around in a manner fitting an Old West gunslinger, the stock coming to rest snugly against her hip and her finger on the trigger. A gasp came from the crowd. The barrel was aimed straight at the old woman at the podium. For several moments, McKenzie and the abbess locked gazes.

This was way out of hand, Malcolm thought. Much as he appreciated the gesture, shooting the abbess was definitely the wrong thing to do if they wanted to maintain good relations with the D'ninis. McKenzie was a MACO, true, but he'd thought she'd had been on board long enough to realize that sometimes it wasn't a good idea to shoot first and pick up the pieces afterward.

A new ripple of despair ran through him as he realized he was one of the pieces.

To everyone's surprise, the abbess began to laugh. She laughed so hard that tears streamed from her eyes. When her laughter began to fade away, she reached up and wiped the tears from her face.

"There is no need for that, young woman," she told McKenzie. Gesturing toward the huddled group of D'nini, she said, "They have decided not to pursue this marriage, as they believe they are no match for a challenge with you and your friends. I took great pains to tell them about the training each woman with Starfleet receives, particularly physical training and self-defense. And so, they yield Lieutenant Reed to you and the others." She smiled at the MACO. "If they had not decided to renounce their claim, I'm sure your little demonstration would have gone a long way toward convincing them."

Malcolm's knees almost buckled in relief. Only Travis' strong grip on his upper arm kept him from staggering.

"Whoa there, Malcolm!" said Trip. "This isn't over yet. As long as everything is set up and all the guests are here, why don't ya ask the captain to perform a wedding for you and the winners?"

Feeling as if a weight had been lifted off his shoulders, Malcolm looked over at his friend and smirked. "Trip? Sod off!"

(A/N: One more chapter to go. What? You thought I'd leave it like this? There's still more embarrassment for Malcolm.)


	9. Chapter 9

CHAPTER 9

Malcolm was unsure what to do now that the crisis was past. He was still standing near the podium. The D'nini were keeping their distance, as if they were afraid to approach him after losing him to the Enterprise women. He couldn't tell for sure, but he thought the blood-induced lust that had been in their eyes every time they looked at him was gone, thank goodness.

Off to one side, the captain was in conversation with the abbess. Trip, he noticed, was standing behind the podium, using it to shield his state of undress from the crew out in the seating area.

Maybe he should apologize to his five former bride-wannabes. Maybe he should thank the abbess for her assistance. Or maybe he could just make a run for his cabin and hide there until he died from the overdose of embarrassment to which he'd been subjected.

Hoshi and her four co-conspirators took the decision-making out of his hands. Approaching him en masse, they surrounded him, cutting off any chance of escape.

"All right," he said as he slowly spun in a circle, seeking but not finding a way out as they closed ranks around him. "I suppose I need to thank all of you for standing up for-- _What are you doing!"_

Several pairs of feminine hands had grabbed him, and he felt himself being lifted. The next thing he knew, McKenzie and Cole, along with Hoshi and Liz, had hoisted him up until he was above their shoulders, his body parallel to the deck.

"What is happening?" he heard a voice ask. Letting his head drop back, he saw Silver take a step toward him. Malcolm couldn't tell if she was concerned for his safety or merely curious. It's hard to judge a person's expression when viewing it upside down.

"This is another Earth custom," Hoshi said.

For soccer and rugby matches perhaps, Malcolm thought. This latest indignity didn't have a bloody thing to do with weddings. The winning goal-maker was sometimes carried in triumph off the field, but what they were doing to him was more like the spoils of war going to the victors.

He didn't resist as they carried him off. His pride wouldn't let him. A struggle on his part would only add to his embarrassment.

T'Pol, carefully maintaining her dignity, was following the small procession as it moved down the aisle, cutting off his view of the D'nini as well as the captain and the abbess. To make a bad situation worse, Trip fell into line behind T'Pol. Trip either had forgotten that all he had on as he strutted after the motley group was a T'shirt and a pair of bright orange boxers, or he didn't care. Knowing the engineer, Malcolm figured Trip was so used to being caught in his underwear that it didn't bother him. That, or he wanted to gloat over Malcolm's latest precarious situation.

Cheers and whistles broke out from the assembled crew in the cargo bay as Malcolm was carried to the door. There were a few awkward moments as he was "woman-handled" through to the corridor.

"Hey!" he said, feeling a hand encroach on a private part of his anatomy. "Watch it!"

"Sorry," Hoshi said. "Just trying to find a better grip."

Malcolm was manuevered out into the corridor and carried for a few meters before the procession slowed. He was lowered until his feet were on the deck and he was able to stand. Straightening to his full height, he dusted off his dress uniform and tugged the jacket back into proper alignment. All the while he glared at his saviors.

"What exactly was the purpose of this last stunt?" he demanded.

Four smug smiles and one raised eyebrow were the only answers he received before Hoshi said, "We were rescuing you."

He saw Trip, standing off to one side, grinning so much that it looked like his face would split. Shooting the engineer a look that said to stay out of the discussion, he addressed the women. "I could have made it out of the cargo bay under my own power," he said.

"I'm sure you could have, Lieutenant," T'Pol said. "However, a 'snatch and grab' seemed the best way to expedite the situation, leaving no time for second thoughts or protests on the part of the D'nini."

Malcolm felt himself start to flush at the reference to "grab," and he looked quickly at Hoshi, who stopped snickering.

McKenzie hitched the phase rifle up higher on its strap over her shoulder. "We were just making sure there were no attempts to interfere with you leaving, sir," she said.

Malcolm harrumphed. Tugging on his jacket once again, he said in a low voice, "If any of you ever try anything like that again, I will use you for target practice -- no matter what your rank." This last was directed at T'Pol. She'd been around humans long enough to realize that he needed to express his emotional discomfort after what he'd been through without the threat of her adding a charge of insubordination against him. At least he hoped so. "Understood?"

The women responded with a chorus of "ayes," except for McKenzie, who asked with a straight face, "Promise, sir?"

He narrowed his eyes and stalked off, but not before he heard Cole say, "That's more like the Lieutenant Reed we know and love."

Feminine laughter followed him until he turned the corner at the end of the corridor.

The group broke up to go their separate ways. McKenzie and Cole left to go to the MACO quarters. Liz strolled off toward sickbay. T'Pol and Hoshi went back to the cargo bay, but not before both women stared at Trip. The engineer had watched the conversation with Malcolm with barely concealed glee, but the grin left his face as he realized he was still standing around in his underwear. Blushing almost as brightly as his orange boxers, he hurried off down the corridor.

As they made their way back into the cargo bay, T'Pol told Hoshi that Doctor Phlox believed the D'ninis' compulsion concerning Malcolm most likely would be negated by the outcome of the wedding. While Hoshi found that to be a relief -- although nothing compared to what Malcolm must be feeling, she was sure -- it also raised another question: Would the D'ninis now be susceptible to another man?

The sooner the D'nini's were off the ship, the better for all concerned. With this in mind, Hoshi accompanied T'Pol against the tide of crew members who were leaving the cargo bay. Soon only the D'ninis, their abbess, Jon, and Travis remained.

Hoshi and T'Pol neared Jon in time to hear the abbess say, "Your offer of hospitality is appreciated, but we must leave."

"You're certain?" the captain asked.

"Yes. Quite certain," the abbess said. Turning toward her charges, she motioned for them to come closer and said in a stern tone, "Your ship is repaired and ready to go. We have wasted enough of these people's time. And you have learned a valuable lesson about traveling without proper chaperones."

All five D'nini looked ashamed. Hoshi felt a sudden rush of sympathy. "Things didn't turn out so badly," she said.

"That's right," Jon put in. "We got a chance to meet representatives of a new culture, and there are often misunderstandings when that happens. But everything worked out all right."

"That is correct," T'Pol said. "Misunderstandings often result when humans in particular first encounter a new species." At Jon's outraged expression, she added grudgingly, "This incident was relatively mild compared to some."

The abbess snorted in a very unabbess-like manner. "Perhaps. But never again will I allow myself to be talked into allowing novices as young as these to travel on a pilgrimage alone."

Hoshi glanced around at the D'nini. She remembered when they'd first come aboard and she'd been struck by their timeless quality. She hadn't been able to tell if they were twenty or one hundred, or somewhere in between. "If you don't mind me asking," Hoshi said, "how old are they?"

"Not old at all," the abbess replied. "From the data about your species that you so kindly sent to pass the time on my journey here, I believe their age and maturity is analogous to approximately fourteen of your Earth years."

T'Pol raised at eyebrow at this information. "Had we realized this, a marriage would have been out of the question. Earth has certain laws regarding minors and marriage."

"As do we," the abbess said serenely. "However, I thought it best if these young ones found out the folly of their actions first-hand."

As the captain started to lead the abbess down the aisle of the now deserted cargo bay, he said, "You never did tell us your name."

The abbess stopped and looked up him. "There is a reason for that, Captain," she said. "If I told you, I'd have to marry you."

The captain blanched. After a stunned moment, he held out his arm, "By all means, then, let's see you on your way."

They resumed walking, followed closely by the five disappointed D'nini. T'Pol moved off after them, and Hoshi found herself walking with Travis at the rear of the group.

"They're only fourteen years old," Travis said with a chuckle. "I can't wait to see Lieutenant Reed's face when we tell him that!"

Hoshi had to agree. She wanted to be there when he found out he'd almost been married to jail bait.

Everyone else had passed through the doorway to the corridor when Hoshi put out a hand to stop Travis. "You might want to be careful if you plan on helping escort the D'ninis to the docking port where their ship is," she told him.

"Why?"

"Since they didn't get their wish with the lieutenant, who knows what the sight of a man's blood will do to them now. You better make sure you don't cut yourself and start bleeding around them."

"You're kidding!" he exclaimed.

Hoshi shook her head. "We don't know much about them," she said seriously. "If they see a man's blood again, after being frustrated the first time, they might have an even worse reaction." Travis stared at her, and she added, "And their abbess is here. There wouldn't be any reason to delay the ceremony. I don't know if I could come up with five women to stand up for you on such short notice."

Travis stared searchingly at her, but Hoshi had her poker expression firmly in place.

"Maybe I ought to go to my cabin," he said at last. "I, uh, really should get out of this dress uniform."

When they stepped out into the corridor, Travis turned in the direction away from the docking port. Hoshi, smiling broadly, hurried to catch up with the D'ninis, the captain, and T'Pol at the other end of the corridor.

Within fifteen minutes, their guests had departed. The abbess, who had arrived in an even smaller ship than Silver and the others, was an accomplished pilot in her own right. Her departure from the launch bay was smooth. The ship of the five younger D'ninis, with repairs completed days ago, detached from the docking port a few minutes later. Hoshi had made sure that the instructions for that procedure had been downloaded earlier into the D'nini navigation computer.

_Pilgrimage my ass, _Hoshi thought. _Those five girls were out on a joyride when their ship malfunctioned. No wonder they hadn't known much about their ship and had to be talked through the docking procedure._

Jon looked down at Hoshi after the ships had departed and smiled ruefully. "That had to be one of the weirdest first contacts we've ever had."

"But one of the most entertaining," Hoshi said with a laugh.

"Lieutenant Reed may argue that point," T'Pol said as they walked away from the docking port.

"Probably," Hoshi agreed. "I should let him know it's safe to come out now."

---

SEVERAL DAYS LATER

Hoshi and Trip were seated at a table in the mess hall. They'd both worked long into the evening -- Hoshi finally finishing the upgrade to the UT with the D'nini language, Trip tinkering with some maintenance work in Engineering. Few of the crew were around, as the dinner hour has passed some time before.

They were eating in companionable silence when the door to the mess hall opened and Malcolm walked in. He went over to the food cabinet, picked out a dinner, and went to the beverage dispenser. After getting a cup of tea, he turned around to find Hoshi and Trip watching him.

Neither Trip nor Hoshi said anything as Malcolm came over and sat down without being invited, but they both knew If he'd tried to sit anywhere else, they would have called him over. This was the first time since the D'nini had left that either of them had seen him outside of his regular duties. Their introverted friend had become a recluse in the days following his narrow escape from the tender clutches of the D'nini.

"So," Trip said after Malcolm began eating, "I see you've pried yourself out of your cabin."

Malcolm glanced warily at Trip but continued to eat.

"Yes," Hoshi said. "It's good to see you out again. Over your embarrassment?"

Malcolm sighed and put down his fork. Looking first at Hoshi, then at Trip, he said, "For the most part."

Trip picked up his glass and swirled the water around in it. "How are your new wedding plans going?" he asked, the twinkle in his eyes belying his straight face.

Malcolm snorted dismissively. "You both well know there's not another wedding. I'll thank you to just let it drop."

"Are you being teased a lot?" Hoshi asked curiously.

Picking up his fork, Malcolm stabbed at a piece of chicken. "Actually, no. All I have to do is stare down anyone who looks like they are going to bring up the subject, and they back off." He lifted the fork to his mouth, but paused to add, "Well, at least the male members of the crew back off."

"So the women are teasing you?" Trip asked in amusement.

Malcolm shook his head as he chewed. He swallowed and said, "No, they haven't said a word to me about it. I think they're afraid."

"Afraid that you might use them for target practice?" Hoshi asked, earning a chuckle from Trip.

"It's possible," Trip said. "It's not every day that somebody threatens a superior officer with shooting them and gets away with it."

Malcolm shook his head again. "No, that's not it. They're not afraid of me. They're afraid of you, Hoshi," he said, pointing his fork at her for emphasis. At her surprised stare, he added, "And Liz Cutler. And T'Pol. And especially Corporals McKenzie and Cole."

"So the other female crew members don't want to be seen talking to you because they're afraid McKenzie and Cole will come after them?" Hoshi asked.

"Exactly," Malcolm said, and resumed eating.

"Wow, Malcolm," said Trip in mock admiration. "I'm impressed. Not only did you have women fightin' over you, you've got 'em fightin' off any competition."

Malcolm rolled his eyes. "There is no competition. I did not propose to anyone, and McKenzie and Cole are not going to propose to me."

Hoshi pushed away from the table and stood up. "Don't worry, Malcolm. It will all die down eventually." She leaned down close to him and whispered, "Don't forget -- we still need to pick wedding colors."

Malcolm turned bright red as Hoshi sauntered off. "I wish she'd stop that," he muttered. "They're all doing stuff like that. Well, except for T'Pol, and who'd believe her if she did? Anyway, it's no wonder nobody believes that nothing is going on between me and any of those five women."

Trip snorted. "Those five women saved your butt," he said.

"I know, but I'm getting a little tired of the way they're acting. I suppose they think they're entitled to tease me since they..." Malcolm grimaced as if what he was about to say was distasteful. "...rescued me. In the meantime, it's caused another problem."

"What could possibly be wrong now?"

"Movie night is coming up," Malcolm said in disgust.

"So?" Trip said. "It's supposed to be a real action-packed adventure. You'll love it!"

"That's the irony of it," Malcolm admitted. "I would like to see the movie. But..."

Trip frowned. "But what?"

Malcolm sighed heavily and took a sip of his tea before answering. "Remember when you gave me that advice on how to handle the D'nini? You said that after they were gone, I'd never have trouble getting a date for movie night."

Trip nodded. "So what's the problem?"

"The problem is," Malcolm said in exasperation, "I can't ask any of the 'five' to go with me. People would think something really is going on between me and whoever goes with me to the movie. And no one else will want to go with me because they're afraid McKenzie and Cole will beat them up."

Trip, who had been taking a drink of his water, choked when he tried to swallow and laugh at the same time. Malcolm reached over and slapped him on the back.

"Damn, Malcolm!" Trip spluttered out. "Maybe ya just ought to surrender and ask the MACOs to go with ya."

"I don't think so," Malcolm said icily.

"Well, then, I guess you're stuck with me," Trip said affably. "Wanna go with me to see that movie?"

"I don't think so!" Malcolm said again but more emphatically. "The last thing I need is to show up in public with you after you pranced around in your underwear at the wedding. Everyone would think you were my date! I can hear the gossip now. 'No wonder Malcolm didn't marry any of those women. He likes men.' What little good reputation I have left would be totally ruined!"

Trip chuckled and stood up. "Have it your way, Malcolm. Ya can't say I didn't try to help you out." He started to turn away but stopped and turned back. "Oh, by the way," he said. "I've been meaning to ask you about whether your name or mine should go first on the wedding invitations."

"Don't you start!"

Trip made a quick exit, his laughter floating back to where Malcolm was sitting and shaking his head.

--the end--


End file.
